Bound in Blood
by Mebrireth
Summary: Pre-LOTR, Legolas is captured by a foe he has never encountered, and his only hope rests with an older, more powerful elf-lord (guess who). Reviews and criticism welcome...FINISHED!!!!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, only things unrecognizable are mine, and I am sure we can all figure out which is which.  
  
Author's Note: This is the beginning of a dark fic, and may not be suitable for some. Fair warning of torture and tense situations. Would appreciate reviews to know what you think.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Dark. Dark, and nothing else. Not even any pain anymore, those parts are gone. Wonder what happened to them, maybe they are truly gone for good. Pain would be preferred.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf, elven Prince of Mirkwood, struggled to regain his full senses and pierce through the utter darkness. The dark had to be a result of eyelids that refused to open, but Legolas soon realized that his eyes were already wide open. Even worse.  
  
Sight is not what leaves me, there is merely nothing here. Nothing but the dark. The merciless dark that will not reveal anything, makes a mockery out of everything. Dark is torture.  
  
But of course, that was not the only torture the elf had sustained. Feeling as if his mind was in a fog, Legolas tried to remember what had happened to him the past few days. He had been sent as part of a hunting party to gather food for a grand feast. They had been besieged, Legolas could not remember by who, and he had been brought here, alone. What happened to the rest of his party was a mystery to him, and Legolas could only assume they were dead. One thing was for sure, none of them were here with him, there was not a breath of sound.  
  
The events that happened after being brought here were vague and weightless in Legolas' mind. The more he tried to grasp at them, the more they seemed to evade him. The only scene he could remember was one of bright blood. For there had been light when they had taken him here, they had to see. Yes, there had been a lot of blood, but from what? From himself?  
  
The elf moved slightly, trying to gather information on his body. He felt disconnected with it. Sharp pains hit him from several different areas, so much so that he immediately stilled all movements and tried to concentrate on where the pain was coming from. But there was too much to decipher. At least his body was still there.  
  
Alright then, the blood had been from him. When he came to the realization, another scene came to him. A large whip had been brought in, made of the toughest leather and cruelly barbed at the end. An equally large man wielded the whip, and he had brought it down upon Legolas several times, while Legolas had raged futilely, chained into the walls like a mere beast.  
  
But pride and anger can only last for so long in the face of agony. Legolas had quickly been broken, and had only closed his eyes, hoping that the torment would end soon. He made no sound, would not let himself make any, though his soul itself had screamed, and that only infuriated his captors even more. The blows came harder and multiplied, but still the elf gave no response. Blessedly, Legolas had passed into a painless void, unconscious.  
  
Disgusted, his captors had left and blew out the torches that provided the harsh light.  
  
And that had been the end. Legolas' mind was starting to function now, and he was sure that that had been all to transpire. Which seemed impossible, he felt like he had been here for weeks, when it had truly been only a day, if that even. Denied the view of the sky, Legolas could not judge the passage of time.  
  
Now that Legolas was fully conscious, pain began to hit him in steady waves. The elf prince gritted his teeth and tried to move about so that he was in a more comfortable position, one that evoked less pain. But he had been manacled to stone walls, with short chains that restricted movement. He could not even sit down, but had to remain standing on pained legs. His arms were held above his head, stretching his chest and causing his breath to be labored. Everything hurt now.  
  
The sound of pounding blood filled his ears, and the reverberation was maddening.  
  
Should be grateful for some things, the elf thought to himself, that it still beats at all is miraculous in itself.  
  
The elf wanted to get his mind off of the pain, so instead he strove to think of who his captors were. No matter how he tried, he could not remember what those who attacked him and his party looked like. But the ones who had stood before him to torment him, he had seen those. They were tall, some even taller than he, and all wore long dark robes with the hoods pulled up. They did not want him to know who they were. Which could be a good or bad thing. Had they revealed themselves, that meant that they would most likely kill him without reason, for they had no ulterior motives which required stealth. On the other hand, the disguised identities could mean that they desired no ransom for him and would kill him as well.  
  
Either way it was looked at, it appeared as though they wanted Legolas dead. Probably the only reason he was alive now was because they recognized his position, a royal could fetch a high ransom and was worth more alive than dead.  
  
Legolas' tortured mind soon became exhausted with all of the thinking, so he stopped. There was no more he could find out on his own, anyway. He was still uncertain that he had even been able to remember everything. Only one thing was for sure, it would be better for him to be able to escape before anybody came back.  
  
Legolas leaned forward, testing the strength of his bindings again. They were remarkably strong, the kind intended for an elf. Another clue, his captors knew much of the elven ways and their strengths. Which was why he was being imprisoned in a dark, stone room. He had nothing from which to work with, to draw strength from, even sight had been robbed from him, and his hearing did nothing.  
  
The tired elf Prince stilled his movements and ceased thinking. His only concentration was that of drawing adequate breath. Slowly, he could feel himself going mad. The oppressive darkness was too much for an elf, and his entire body throbbed. He wished in vain to leave consciousness again, but it didn't happen. Fate was not going to be so kind. He was painfully aware of everything, which was to say he was aware of the nothingness.  
  
The dark solitude was more torture than the cruel whip, and Legolas let out a feeble scream, the first sound to leave his throat since he had been brought here. He stopped the sound immediately, ashamed, and hoped that nobody had heard it. That was not to be so, for his sharp ears soon picked up the sound of a door being pulled open, and then soft footsteps coming down stairs.  
  
Legolas tried to draw himself up and braced for the encounter of his tormentors. He made a vow that he would not scream again. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine, obviously, otherwise you wouldn't recognize it. There is bound to be lots of questions at this point, but it will all come clear, I swear. Please review and I'll love you for it!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
The steps came closer, and Legolas was able to sense the presence of bodies accumulating around him. He was still unable to see. Legolas prepared himself for a blow in the dark, but nothing befell him. After a few moments, light blazed forth into the room. The elf had to close his sensitive eyes against the sudden flood of light. When he opened them again, he was able to see his captors once more.  
  
As before, they still wore long cloaks, revealing nothing about themselves. Legolas drew himself as straight as was possible against the pain of his body, trying to embody the proudness that usually came so easy to him. Although he could not see their faces, Legolas had the feeling that this amused them.  
  
"Is our Prince awake and well, then?" asked the figure directly in front of him. Legolas did not bother to respond.  
  
"Perhaps he is not all that well," another figure cut in, "he screamed." Legolas cast his eyes down, shame at his defenselessness getting the better of him. There were a few scattered chuckles at his reaction.  
  
"Worry not," the same figure stepped towards him and reached out a pale hand to stroke Legolas' cheek. With a start, Legolas realized that this one was a female. He looked up, but could still not see any of the features, even though she stood very close to him. All that could be seen was a faint glimmer of the eyes within the hood. "You will soon have plenty to scream about, then you will not feel as bad, for it cannot be helped. Trust me with this, my dear elf, you will scream again."  
  
Legolas stared defiantly into the hooded face, determined to not appear helpless in front of them again. Legolas became so fixated on the one in front of him that he did not even notice the movements of one to his left until a blow had landed in his middle. Legolas immediately doubled over, or tried to anyway. The manacles kept him from going completely over, causing his torso to stretch even more and deny any intake of breath. Legolas had to stop himself from panicking, he could not get any air in this position. The female still stood in front of him, having not moved an inch. He could feel her eyes on him as he tried valiantly to bring air into his lungs. After a few minutes, he was finally able to draw in a complete breath, and he wearily drew himself up tall again. He had not made a sound the entire time.  
  
"Admiration is due," the female said, "but I am afraid we cannot give it to you. Rest easy elf, for you have an important appointment tomorrow." With that, the female turned and silently walked away. Some of the other figures followed her, while others remained behind. A dagger lay on the floor, and one of the figures picked it up.  
  
The female swiftly turned, "No! Leave him. You can have some fun tomorrow." The figure held onto the dagger, and he seemed to be thinking. Legolas was wondering at all of this, but was wondering even more if the figure would actually listen to the female. Slowly, the hand holding the dagger lowered, and Legolas breathed a small sigh.  
  
Upon hearing that, the hand rose incredibly fast and slashed neatly across Legolas' chest. The elf gasped at the sudden bite of metal, but bit his cheek so that no more sound would come from him. He threw his head back and ground his jaw in frustration. The dagger was finally dropped and the other figures turned to hurry after the others. Legolas was soon alone again. This time, however, they had left a torch burning at the far end of the stone imprisonment, presumably so that Legolas would be able to make out the blood now flowing across his tunic.  
  
The elf glanced down at his chest. The wound had not been deep, thankfully, and only a small amount of blood had found its way out. It was enough, though, and Legolas found himself slipping on the edge of unconsciousness again. He did not even try to fight it. The combined bloodloss was too strong of a hold. Gratefully, Legolas accepted the painless oblivion.  
  
"What is the use of being an heir to a throne that does not exist?" A voice drifted out of the depths to Legolas. He was confused, not sure where it was coming from or even what it meant.  
  
"One that will not die will not leave a throne open, nobody else will stand a chance for it. How is it that you can have any hope of attaining that which you seek most?" The voice was low and sensuous, putting Legolas at an ease while stirring up great emotions at the same time. He still did not know what it was speaking of, but he wanted to listen to it, to trust it. It had that effect on him.  
  
"A proud prince, a good and noble elf, all for naught. What is the point? You know not, nobody does. Except perhaps, your father."  
  
The mist that seemed to engulf Legolas suddenly lifted and he had a striking vision of his own father, Thranduil. He was receiving word from a messenger. Intrigued, Legolas strained to listen. He knew that he himself could not be seen or heard, but this sent off no alarms inside of Legolas, and he only wished to hear what was happening.  
  
The messenger was speaking. "I am sorry my Lord, but it is the whole party that has disappeared, including the Prince Legolas. We have been searching for them endlessly and will put forth every effort we have possible, but so far nothing has rewarded our searches." The messenger elf looked very distraught to be the one delivering such a message, but Legolas ignored him. He concentrated only on his father, on the reaction of the King.  
  
Like a true King and worried father, Thranduil looked thoroughly distressed. He ordered for all efforts to be doubled and for word to reach the ears of every elven nation. Foul play had to be responsible, for there was no other way to explain the disappearance of a strong hunting party that contained his son, the best archer Mirkwood had to offer. Servants scattered to carry out Thranduil's bidding.  
  
In no time, the room was empty and Thranduil sat back into his large throne. Legolas concentrated on him even more, honing in on only his father, searching for something that he knew would have to be there. And in a few moments his inner feelings and suspicions were confirmed, his father smiled. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The brilliance of Tolkien has absolutely nothing to do with me, so only stuff that seems less brilliant is mine. Thanks to all kind reviewers and please continue! For those suffering from action withdrawal, this chapter should fill your needs.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Legolas woke up as if he had been shocked. He jerked upright, then immediately winced for doing so. His battered body still had not healed. Legolas blinked his eyes a few times, the last images of his father in the palace fading slowly.  
  
It had to have been a dream, Legolas thought to himself. He was still in the stone room, still chained firmly to the wall. The only difference was that the single lit torch had burned down and gave off even less light. That meant the passage of time had been a significant amount.  
  
Legolas found himself thinking of the dream. It had seemed so real to him, so vivid. But of course that was impossible. And besides, what had the dream revealed? That his father wanted to betray him? That could not be the truth.  
  
The elf prince dismissed the dream, nothing more than his pain and confusion manifesting itself in some sick way. Instead he thought about the recent encounter with his captors. They had mentioned some kind of appointment for today, and they had sounded pleased about it. That only meant one thing, that Legolas would not be pleased.  
  
His eyes darted over to the torch again, trying to determine if a day's time had passed yet. He did not think so. Either way, there was not much time.  
  
As far as Legolas could tell, he had two options. Break away now, or be tortured again, for that had to be the only reason they would want him. It certainly would not be to invite him for anything to eat. But how would he break free? The chains were unbelievably strong and had no trouble supporting him even if he were to drop all of his weight. A short investigation proved that the wall was not going to give at any time. Legolas had a sudden thought of the dwarves, the small and stout people that he had his people's prejudice against. Only a dwarf would hold prisoners in a stone room. Legolas quickly passed the idea over, his captors were too tall for one thing, and his elvish pride doubted that his whole hunting party would have been besieged by a group of dwarves.  
  
A thought came to Legolas and he remembered the dagger that had sliced across his chest. The figure had dropped the dagger when he had left. It was only a sliver of hope, and by all means there was probably nothing he could do with the dagger, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Legolas strained his neck so that he could search the ground. It was still on the ground, a few paces off to his left. Carefully, Legolas stretched out a leg towards it. He tried to ignore the protests from his body and focused only on his leg. In a few moments, the dagger was under his foot and he had it dragged closer to him. Legolas stopped to rest his injured body for a moment.  
  
The dagger was now right next to his foot, so now what? The only way it could be of any help would be to get it into his hand, and that could very well prove to be impossible. The only thing he could think of would be to try to kick it up, but he could just as easily kick it permanently out of his reach. A small paradox.  
  
Legolas decided to take his chances. Slowly, the elf slid his light boot underneath the hilt of the dagger. When he was convinced that he had it balanced as well as was possible; Legolas took a deep breath, and then kicked up as hard as he could. His breath exploded with the effort, the pain of the sudden movement surging throughout his entire body. For one terrifying fraction of a second, Legolas thought he would succumb to the pain and lose consciousness again and then all of his work would have been for naught. But he grittily hung on, in time to stretch his hands out as far as they could go in an attempt to catch the dagger on its way down.  
  
He felt the dagger hit the tip of his hand, and his fingers closed instantly on it. Unfortunately, he had gotten ahold of the blade, and it deftly cut into his palm. Legolas clenched his teeth and rapidly turned the dagger so that he was holding the hilt.  
  
A small wave of triumph passed through the elf when he finally had the dagger, by the hilt, in his hand. But then he came to his original problem, what would he do with it now? It could not possibly be strong enough to be of any use against the chains, so what good was it?  
  
As Legolas pondered over the problem, he heard the door swing softly open again. Without even thinking, Legolas arched his back and then dropped the dagger behind his head, having it catch in his empty quiver that was still on his back. At least he had a weapon now, he could show his tormentors a thing or too.  
  
Legolas grew still and waited to see what would happen next. He could not hear anybody coming, but he knew that he had not imagined the door opening. The elf strained his senses. He did not have long to wait. In no time, one of the cloaked figures had stepped into his line of vision, the even smaller torch giving off miniscule light. The figure came closer to Legolas, and he understood why he had not been able to hear him. The figure made absolutely no sound as it walked, surpassing even Legolas' keen hearing, and likely they would only be heard when in a group, like the first time they had come for him.  
  
Legolas stiffened when the figure came to a halt only inches from him. "We are ready for your accompaniment," it said after a moment of silence. At the words, Legolas realized that this was the same female figure, the one that seemed to have some type of authority.  
  
Legolas moved not an inch when a white hand suddenly came out of the cloak and struck at him with amazing speed. Time seemed to pause for a second when the hand was withdrawn and Legolas felt nothing, until his hands suddenly came free. Astonished, the elf held his hands in front of them. They had been removed from the wall, but were still bound together.  
  
When the surprise had faded, the elf prince could not help slumping forward until he was on his knees. The sudden withdrawal of the support the chains had been giving him was too much on him. His body would not obey him and stand on its own. In vain, Legolas strove to right himself and not appear weak, but he only slumped forward still and would have gone all the way down had he not placed his chained hands on the ground in front of him. Legolas decided to not move and tried to catch his breath.  
  
The female was directly in front of him, not offering any help, but not inflicting more injuries either. One should be grateful for small things.  
  
"Get up," the female suddenly commanded, "you have to prepare yourself before you can be seen, it would be disgraceful."  
  
Legolas looked up, small dots swimming in his vision. He did not even try to stand, but focused his strength on something else. "Who are you?" he gasped out, his voice strained, the first words uttered in a few days.  
  
"So the proud elf prince can speak," came the voice from the hood, "we were beginning to have doubts. I am afraid that none of your questions can be answered right now, not until our own have been met. But you might find out one day, have hope for that." The voice was light and unaffected by Legolas' pain, "Now kindly get up, I shall not carry you."  
  
After several efforts, Legolas drew himself up to his knees, than to his feet. His motions were no where as graceful as they normally were, but the fact that he could move at all was good enough. The robed figure went on ahead of him, not particularly caring about how far Legolas fell behind.  
  
When the elf reached the door of the room, and thus the exit, he hesitated. The female continued on in a brisk pace, and had seemingly forgotten about him. Legolas had to take the chance. Summoning the last of his strength, Legolas swiftly turned to a side corridor and bolted. He was in no condition to run, but the elf ignored his body and focused only on moving as quickly as possible. The chains around his hands made more noise than he liked, but that could not be helped at the moment.  
  
There was no other sound outside of the rattling chains and Legolas' pained breath. Hope glimmered before the elf like a mirage to an exhausted traveler. Legolas tried to quicken his pace and get out of there before anybody noticed his disappearance. Heedlessly, Legolas turned a corner, and braked immediately. One of the cloaked figures stood in the middle of the hall, blocking his route. Legolas was about to make up his mind to charge when the figure spoke.  
  
"The fault is all mine for thinking that one such as yourself could be trusted. Now I am afraid that punishment will be severe. Let this not happen again." It was the female voice; the same female Legolas had just ran from. He found himself wondering how she could have possibly gotten here before him, but all thoughts were quickly expelled from him when a leg came out of the cloak and smashed into the elf's chest. Legolas fell back, his old wounds protesting at the treatment.  
  
However weak he was, Legolas was no longer tied up, and that had been an unfair advantage. Now he was free to move about, even if his hands were still bound together. Legolas immediately stood and went into a defensive crouch, dropping the exhaustion and pain that had overtaken him. He remembered suddenly the dagger he had dropped in his quiver, but he would wait to use it. No use in letting the female know what he had until it was too late for her.  
  
Legolas wanted to attack, but he found himself hesitating. His foe was female after all, and the old pretences had been instilled in him, more so since he was a prince. Females were to be protected at all costs and never fought against, as they would be unable to match the male.  
  
His hesitation cost him, however, and the female quickly proved that she was knowledgeable in the arts of fighting. Another kick caught Legolas in the jaw and his vision swam for a moment. Her next move was countered, and Legolas then concentrated on only blocking and defending himself, he would not be the one to attack.  
  
The elf tried to simply outmaneuver the female and get around her to run, but that proved to be impossible. And the weight on his hands was enough to slow his movements and sap some strength. Legolas was aware that he was tiring, and tiring quickly. This had to end soon or his chance at freedom would be forever gone.  
  
Legolas went for the dagger. As fast as his hands could move in their current condition, Legolas reached around to the quiver, removed the dagger, and threw it at his opponent in one, fluid motion. The dagger hit its mark, and this time it was the female who screamed. She dropped to her knees, the blade buried in her shoulder. Wasting no more time, Legolas turned and started to run once more. The counterattack came as a complete surprise.  
  
The dagger, the very one he had thrown at the female, found its way back to Legolas. With absolute shock, Legolas went to his knees, the dagger imbedded in his back, between his shoulder blades, a highly fatal spot. Apparently the female had been down but not beaten.  
  
"She-devil," Legolas gasped as he reached around and yanked the dagger out. He did not have a chance to do anymore as he was suddenly pulled to his feet by his blonde hair. He was spun until he faced his foe. The female had hold of him, blood flowing freely from her wounded shoulder, but her strength none the worse for it.  
  
"Cursed elf," she hissed, "you will be taught a lesson." A blow to the middle doubled Legolas over, accompanied by a swift blow to the nose, which snapped him backwards. The chains were caught and yanked on cruelly, whipping Legolas back up once more, his arms feeling as though they had been torn free.  
  
"Never again will you have this opportunity," the female declared before a direct blow to the face forced Legolas to lose touch with reality. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Yes, yes, I don't own any that Tolkien does. I only use his characters for lack of creativity.  
  
Author's Note: Many thanks to those who pointed out the formatting disaster, ff.net truly hates me and does all that is possible to destroy me, but I will prevail! That said, love all your kind reviews and please continue, it makes me write faster!  
  
Legolas awoke in a different environment. He was laying down, on what appeared to be a bed, but that could not be. He looked about him, he was indeed no longer in the stone room. A four-postered bed rose up around him and windows let in the light provided from a full moon outside. A glance at himself showed different clothing. The dirty and bloodstained clothing was gone, replaced by a silver and gold outfit of a tunic and leggings. His skin was clean and no blood was to be found.  
  
Had it all been a dream then? Legolas groaned and moved to turn to his side, but was stopped. He was lashed down in the bed, he could not move. And the attempts at movement brought back the now-familiar flare of pain from too many wounds over a short time period. So it had not been a dream.  
  
The elf ceased trying to struggle and wondered at what would transpire next. These beings he was dealing with were unpredictable. Why they would torture him only to place him in a guest room were beyond Legolas.  
  
While he was on the matter, Legolas tried to once again identify what was holding him. They were obviously not human, as their strength and reflexes matched his own. But did that then mean they were elven? The thought was disquieting. If elves truly were responsible for this, then something was desperately wrong in Middle-earth. Elves never acted this way, especially with other elves. If not elves, then what? What else could possibly have enough strength to be doing this to him?  
  
And they knew he was a prince, this fact was not wasted on Legolas. The she-devil had even called him a prince. Another factor leading to elves. No other race would care what he was, or even know who he was. Disturbing revelations.  
  
Legolas was not to be left alone with his thoughts. The door to his room opened and a figure came in. Legolas was severely beginning to tire of the cloaks hiding his enemies.  
  
The elf lay mutely as the figure came to the bed and undid the lashings. When Legolas was free he stepped back. "Get up," the figure commanded. It was not the female, and Legolas found that he had thought it would be.  
  
Slowly, and still painfully, Legolas pulled himself up, then carefully out of the bed. He was clean and dressed in fresh clothing, but he still felt sick to his stomach with the harsh treatment he had been suffering. In a haze, Legolas was marched out of the room, the figure at his back. Obviously, the same mistake was not to be repeated, even though Legolas was much too tired to try anything like that again. He knew the fight with the female had cost him much. The dagger in the back had nearly ended his life.  
  
Blindly, Legolas staggered on, the figure giving short directions at his back. If Legolas failed to comply with the directions immediately, he was swiftly and harshly nudged in the correct direction. When they finally reached their destination, Legolas was on the verge of collapse.  
  
"Wait here," the figure ordered gruffly, shoving past the elf and stepping up to a large wooden door in front of them. The figure paused right before he opened it, "And I mean what I say, if you are not here on my return, we will find you, and the consequences will not be pleasant. You cannot run from us in this castle." Then he was gone through the door.  
  
It is not likely I would even try, Legolas thought dimly to himself as he leaned heavily against a wall. He was in absolutely no condition to try another run for hope. He could barely stand as he was.  
  
The figure came back, and Legolas looked at him through bloodshot eyes. He was grabbed roughly by an arm and pushed through the door. "Act like a Prince and walk on your own," the figure hissed at his back.  
  
With as much pride as he could muster, the elf walked slowly into the room. His mind seemed to be working slowly as he took in his surroundings. He had been expecting another type of dungeon or a large council room at the least. Instead, he was walking into a very vast dining hall. The bulk of it was dominated by a huge table, at which every seat was filled. The scent of food was heavy in the air, and Legolas realized he was very hungry. He had not eaten anything since being captured.  
  
After he assessed the surroundings, Legolas' gaze lowered to the occupants of the table. With a start, the elf realized that they were no longer wearing the long cloaks with hoods. He could now see features of his captors.  
  
And they were elves.  
  
With dismay, Legolas took in the fair faces, pointed ears, and other signs to verify that they were elves. There was one difference though. All eyes were on him, and all eyes held a hostile look that was foreign to Legolas. He had never been the object of such open disgust. A few of the elves looked like they would even want to kill Legolas right then. Legolas only tried to walk straighter and appear as though he was unaffected by the hostility, when in actuality it made his very soul sick.  
  
Legolas was still walking, the figure still directing him on at his back. He was almost to the head of the table, and Legolas finally realized what would take place. He was going to be presented to the lord of this place, and perhaps a judgement would occur. Legolas braced himself for the encounter, he would not be made to look foolish and weak in front of the strange elves.  
  
They reached the head of the table, and Legolas was stopped. "My lord," stated the figure behind him, "I present to you Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood."  
  
The head elf turned to fully regard them, and Legolas looked as steadily as was possible back at him. The elf rose solemnly and Legolas noted the features of him. His hair was as dark as night and his eyes were like two lightless pits. His clothing was dark as well, and he seemed to be a parody of Legolas' own light clothing and light features. Legolas had the sudden impression that he was representing day and the strange elf was representing the night.  
  
The elf smiled thinly. "I am of course aware of who and what you are," he informed Legolas. Legolas was not sure how to react to that, so he only held his head higher and locked his blue eyes on the black ones.  
  
"It is always customary that one would introduce himself to another who knows naught of him." Legolas chose his words carefully, striving to sound proud and fearless and as though the recent harsh treatment had been nothing to him, like a good prince.  
  
"Custom has no meaning here," the strange elf replied, "especially customs of yours. Do not expect the comforts of your home. However, we will reign civil for the moment and invite you to dine with us, great Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
Legolas was definitely thrown off stride now. He had no regal reply, as this was the last thing expected from this confrontation. The contempt in the strange elf's voice could not be missed, but his words certainly held no threat. What was he to do?  
  
Of course, there was only one thing to do, Legolas allowed himself to be seated. He fairly collapsed in the chair, grace was momentarily a thing of the past to his injured body. He took an empty seat that was at the left-hand of the elven-lord. Once Legolas was seated, food and drink was immediately placed before him. Suspicion was very high. Legolas looked at the food warily, wondering if perhaps poison would be their method. As he debated over the quality of the food, Legolas raised his eyes and his glance fell on the elf seated across the table from him, at the lord's right-hand.  
  
It was an elf-maiden. And the hostility in her eyes surpassed them all. Her appearance matched that of the dark lord's, in fact, Legolas realized that all the elves in the hall had dark hair and dark eyes. But the elf-maiden seated across from him matched the elf-lord perfectly, the darkness of them matching the abyss.  
  
And the elf-maiden sat with her right-arm hung limply in her lap. Legolas glanced at her shoulder, and could barely make out minute drops of blood on her dark clothing. Blood from a deep wound hastily cleaned and not properly dressed. The elf-maiden was his own personal tormentor.  
  
The other elves had already forgotten about the visiting prince, as he was of no importance to them, and had settled back to eating. The elf- maiden was another story. Her black eyes remained fixed on Legolas, even when he dropped his own and slowly began to eat. The disgust on her face was fixed. She did not touch any more of her food.  
  
When Legolas was halfway through with his meal, which he had to admit was pretty good, the dark elf-lord rose. All other elves immediately rose and Legolas was jabbed harshly in the back when he did not rise. Slowly, Legolas stood.  
  
Without a word, the elf-lord turned and walked solemnly out of the room. Several elves, including the maiden, followed him out. When he was out of sight, the rest of the elves began to file out of the room.  
  
Legolas had a moment's hope that he had been forgotten when the guard who had escorted him into the room appeared at his side. He still had his cloak and hood on. He grabbed Legolas' arm, but Legolas jerked it out of his grasp and stood aside. He only looked at the guard, his intention clear. He could follow without being led like a child. The guard muttered something under his breath and turned to walk. He glanced back often, but Legolas was always quietly behind him.  
  
Legolas was led back into the room he had woken up in. He stepped inside of it and the door was slammed behind him and he heard the turn of a key in the lock. No matter to him, as long as he was alone for a few hours and allowed to rest. Wearily, Legolas made his way to the bed and fell into it. He was asleep almost immediately, his eyes tightly closed, as this was an occasion meant for total rest in hopes he would be strong enough to face his tormentors tomorrow. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien, so I don't claim anything that belongs to him.  
  
Author's Note: Many thanks to my kind readers for their reviews, and I fully intend to string out the mystery as long as possible. (evil laugh)  
  
Chapter 5  
  
King Thranduil's head scout strode into the large front room of the palace. Thranduil immediately paused in the middle of speaking to one of his guards and turned to meet the scout. Ever since word of the ambush on the elven hunting group that contained his son, Thranduil had elves working at all hours of the day to hunt for and find information on the whereabouts of the hunting party.  
  
The scout reached Thranduil and bowed low. Thranduil bowed in return hastily; eager to have the formalities over and hear what news he had for him.  
  
"Well met Elderein," Thranduil spoke rapidly, "is there any word of my son?"  
  
Elderein bowed once more before speaking. "My lord, I regret to tell you that all the bodies of those in the hunting party have been found. All are dead, my lord."  
  
Thranduil sat down quickly in his chair, his mind trying to grasp the news he had just received. But the scout was continuing and Thranduil struggled to hear. "All bodies save Legolas, his was not amongst the dead. However, his whereabouts are yet to be discovered and it seems that fate is against him."  
  
Thranduil lifted his head when he realized what the Elderein had just said. Legolas' body had not been found, that meant he could still be alive. "What do you mean that fate is against him?" Thranduil asked, sitting up taller.  
  
Elderein looked uncomfortable. "My lord, wherever he is, he is alone, and those who attacked the hunting party are not accounted for at all, they had no dead. So we conclude that he was either captured or escaped and is being hunted by the enemy."  
  
Thranduil fought down momentary panic and looked at Elderein regally. "I hold all faith in my son and he is quite resourceful," Thranduil began, "and as is such, I do not want the searching to halt until we know for certain the fate of Legolas. He is not stricken yet, and no matter how ill fate may appear to you, I will not give up on my own son."  
  
Elderein bowed low when Thranduil was done speaking and turned to leave. No matter how hopeless he thought the situation was, he knew better than to try to argue with King Thranduil, especially when his own son was concerned. They would be searching for Legolas for a hundred years until Thranduil was satisfied, for Elderein knew there was no way they would find the young prince alive, no matter how resourceful he was.  
  
Thranduil sat back as Elderein exited and gave leave to the guard standing beside him. The guard bowed low and exited as well, leaving Thranduil alone with his thoughts. He would never give up on his son, not until he saw the body himself. Legolas would return to him, he knew it.  
  
Legolas could see his father again. Scouts came to him saying there was no point in continuing with the search, as all others had been found dead. With a grieved expression, Thranduil conceded.  
  
"There will be a memorial ceremony tonight to honor those fallen, including Prince Legolas." Thranduil's voice sounded pained as he talked.  
  
Legolas himself was enraged. His father would give up on him that easily? Had he no thoughts on the matter, that Legolas was indeed very much alive and in need of help? Legolas watched the group of elven-scouts exit, calling out to halt the search and tell others of the ceremony to be held that night.  
  
That voice came to Legolas again, the low one he felt he could trust when no other was deserving of the same. "Even immortals fear their own heirs, the throne is all they have."  
  
Legolas turned to see who the speaker was this time. It was the dark elf-maiden, the she-devil. "And what do you care of my father's throne?" he asked, immediately suspicious, but still feeling as though he could trust her. He battled with himself, trying to feel certain one way or the other, but he could not do it.  
  
"I care for those who are denied what they should hold. The usurpation of the throne can be done in many ways." She came to stand at Legolas' side as she spoke and looked out onto the scene with him. His father was speaking with a guard, arranging how the night ceremony would unfold.  
  
"Why would he give up so quickly?" Legolas heard himself asking.  
  
"Nay," the elf-maiden replied, "to him, he wasted too much time. Ones in power can never be trusted."  
  
Legolas kept silent. He had many conflicting emotions running in him, but he could not even think of how to voice them. He knew his own father, he argued with himself, and he would never act this way. He cared not for the throne over his own son, Legolas was sure. But the scene before him and the maiden at his side proved otherwise.  
  
"No," Legolas turned and started out of the room, "I cannot believe this, he would not do this to me." Legolas walked quickly, wanting to put distance between him and the room, away from his father and the elf-maiden. He heard a low sound, as if an angry growl from some sort of beast, but he paid it no heed and only continued on. The familial halls he walked in wavered, dimming so that he was finding it difficult to see. Legolas pushed on, determined to leave this place.  
  
But his movements slowed, and he had to fight just to walk. And then his world shattered, and he was sent to his knees in searing pain.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes. He was no longer in his own home, but still inside the locked room in the strange dwelling. Another dream, a twisted dream that tried to show him false images, Legolas was sure of it. But then he became aware of something else, the pain had followed him. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's, though I severely wish Legolas were for sale, hehe. So here you are, another chapter, hope you enjoy.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Legolas struggled to get out of the bed, his mid-section burning as though a fire was aflame from within. The young elf rolled out of bed and clenched his teeth, willing the pain to be gone. But the unnatural pain only seemed to spread, reaching his chest and squeezing his lungs agonizingly. Legolas stood, panicked in an effort to leave the pain. He moved about senselessly, clear thoughts evading him as he was forced to focus on nothing but the pain.  
  
The elf prince slammed into a wall and slid down it, grabbing at his chest and gasping in valiant efforts to breathe. His foot struck out on its own accord and smashed a small table that had been placed along the wall. Only one thought entered his mind, and that was of the food he had eaten not so long ago.  
  
"The wretch did it," he gasped, trying to push himself off of the wall, "the she-devil poisoned me." He was talking to himself through clenched teeth, trying to make sense out of what was happening.  
  
He had a sudden flash of his dream, when the elf-maiden had been standing beside him, her voice low and caring, and himself feeling that he trusted her despite all else. Of course, that was all gone now. He was certain that this new pain had been her doing, as all of the torture he had endured since being brought here had been her fault. His thoughts were growing as fiery as the pain within him, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be in the room with him right now, then he could take the pain out on her.  
  
But his thoughts were dowsed once again by the mind-numbing fire, and he was forced to his knees. He was panting quite loudly, but he swore he was not going to scream. He was almost positive the she-elf would be outside his door, knowing what she had done to him, and waiting to hear him break.  
  
No, Legolas shook his head though it dizzied him to do so, he would not break. Legolas rolled back onto his heels, once again concentrating in an attempt to will the pain away. His efforts went unheeded. Switching gears, he instead hoped that he would pass out from the pain and be freed from it that way. But moments ticked by, and he remained agonizingly aware of what was going on.  
  
Ai Elbereth, Legolas sent his thoughts up to the one Valar that loved elves above all else. The creator and keeper of the stars that the elves held so dear. And perhaps she heard his prayer, for Legolas finally fell forward, his senses leaving him.  
  
Legolas was rudely awakened by a rough slap across his cheek. His sightless eyes jerked, and expression came into them as his senses awoke. The she-elf came into his vision, her black eyes boring down into his. She straightened when she knew he was awake and took a few steps back. "My lord wishes to see you," she said.  
  
Legolas ignored her for the moment and looked down on himself. He was sprawled on the bed, but the last thing he remembered was being on the floor in agony. He looked at her suspiciously, "How did I get in the bed?"  
  
She gave him a non-plussed look. "Obviously you put yourself into it. Now kindly get out of it, for my lord summons you."  
  
Legolas slid up into a sitting position, but did not bother to go any further than that. He was not going to move out of that room until he had something figured out. Last night's events were confusing, and he wanted to make sense out of them. He could remember himself being in pain, but he could not exactly remember the pain, and there was no sign of it left in his system. Obviously he had been poisoned, but he could feel none of that inside of him either. He felt fine.  
  
The she-elf was getting impatient. "I was under the impression that all young princes were taught courtesy, yet you refuse to oblige an order that is given to you by an elf higher than yourself."  
  
Legolas finally broke his thoughts off of the night before and turned his gaze onto her again. "It is indeed rude to not answer a higher elf," he spoke softly, "but in this case I have no fear of defying an elf higher than myself."  
  
The she-elf's fathomless eyes suddenly blazed as she caught onto his subtle insult of her own lord. She went for him, closing the small gap between them much faster than Legolas had anticipated. She pulled him forward with an iron grip around his throat.  
  
"My lord is in truth much higher than you could ever perceive being. I will not stand by and see an arrogant, meaningless prince belittle him. Now get up and walk on your own feet or I will have you bound and led in."  
  
When she was done speaking, she released her grip and threw Legolas back down. He dragged in a pained breath through his crushed throat while immediately pulling himself back up. Keeping true to his earlier promise, he would never let her see him beaten.  
  
Not wishing to be chained again, Legolas swung his legs to the side and gracefully stood. He used every ounce of strength left in him to appear totally unaffected by her harsh treatment. He did not even allow himself the breath that he desperately needed, but forced himself to breathe in normal amounts of oxygen. His pride would not be dimmed.  
  
The she-elf turned promptly on her heel and walked through the door. Legolas followed grimly, but did not bother to walk too quickly. He would go on his own time. As Legolas passed through the door, he glanced over at the wall, and his eyes fell on the small table standing up beside it. He had a sudden flash of his foot blindly striking it down last night in the midst of the throes of pain, smashing the piece of furniture. It was standing in a pristine state, with not a mark on it. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: If you knew it beforehand, I have nothing to do with it, that's about it.  
  
Author's Note: You all thought I had left you huh? But fear not, I have battled through writer's block and come out the victor. Trust me, there is much more Legolas torture to come!  
  
Chapter 7  
  
A small amount of time passed in which the two traveled through winding passages of hallways. Legolas tried to keep track of the twists and turns, but he soon gave up due to the exhaustion still plaguing him. He had thought that he would feel better in the morning after a night's rest, but obviously last night had not been all that restful.  
  
The she-elf finally paused at a door and looked back at Legolas. She regarded him with contempt before pulling the large door open with a sigh. She stood to the side and glared at Legolas, not wanting to have to talk to him any more than necessary. Legolas understood her intentions and stepped past her through the door. The she-elf's eyes never left him as he walked, and as soon as he was past the threshold the heavy door slammed. Legolas started slightly, then cursed himself for doing so. He glanced back at the door, and had an odd feeling sweep over him.  
  
What strange elves these had to be, he thought, for they did not even make their doors out of the strongest wood. It was iron. In fact, Legolas looked around the room he found himself in, most of what they had in this dwelling were made of iron. They might as well have been dwarves as far as their tastes went. Legolas shrugged off the seemingly unimportant fact and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He held his head high and looked towards the far end of the room where a fire blazed in a huge stone fireplace. Next to the mantle stood the tall dark-haired elf, the lord of this place.  
  
The elf-lord watched as Legolas glanced for a moment around the surroundings and smiled faintly when Legolas finally turned his gaze towards him. He nodded his acknowledgement and then gestured for the young prince to come forward.  
  
Legolas hesitated at the slight invitation and hesitantly placed a foot forward. He walked very slowly towards the elf-lord, taking in everything about the room, the arrangement of the furniture, the height of the ceiling, distance of the walls, lest he might be forced into some sort of action. He wanted to at least to know the environment if he had to fight. Yet he would not make the first move, he would wait to see what this elf wanted from him.  
  
Legolas halted a good fifteen feet from the elf-lord, not desiring to go any further. The elf-lord stared into Legolas' eyes and smiled again, as if he knew exactly what Legolas was thinking and found it funny. Legolas kept his own face smoothed out, training himself to wait.  
  
"Well," the elf-lord finally broke a momentary silence, "I am pleased that we have such a guest in my house."  
  
"I would hardly say guest," Legolas said before he stopped to think about it. He had wanted to say as little as possible, not let the elf-lord know he had the upper-hand. Legolas bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to give in to the elf-lord's goading anymore.  
  
"Either way," the elf-lord was unperturbed, "you are here, so we might as well make the best of it. Come, sit with me and let us talk"  
  
Legolas felt off balanced, but obliged at the elf-lord's words and sat wearily into one of two chairs that had been placed to the right of them. He kept his spine straight, his muscles tightened, ready to spring into action should anything happen. But the elf-lord relaxed and sank into his own chair, and this small action of comfort confused Legolas. He suddenly realized that he truly had no idea what these elves wanted. One minute he was sure he was about to die, the next he was being made comfortable and treated like any other guest. Very disconcerting.  
  
"It has come to my attention that you may be needing of some help," the elf-lord started. "And not just you, but your very realm."  
  
"If you are referring to the darkness on Mirkwood, it has been nearly defeated. We do not need any further help." Legolas spoke before he knew he had done it and mentally kicked himself. He did not want this elf to know any more than necessary.  
  
"It is not the darkness that worries me," the elf-lord replied in a very serious tone. He sounded as if he would like to add more as to what did worry him, but he left it at that. "And whether you think you need help or not, I believe that you do. And we will do all that we can here to help you."  
  
Legolas could not keep quiet at this. "If all that you desire is to help me and my people, why capture and imprison me?"  
  
"We have our reasons," was all the elf-lord would say.  
  
Legolas wanted to add more pertaining to the attitude of his elves towards him but finally kept himself quiet. He suddenly found his attention focused on a sword that was placed above the intricately carved mantle of the fireplace. It was made of steel that he could tell was extremely strong even from where he sat. It virtually glowed and was covered in ancient elvish runes, some of which Legolas was surprised to see that he did not know the meaning to. The hilt was a mix between gold and some other precious metal and carved into the likeness of a dragon with emeralds and sapphires adorning it.  
  
Legolas had to pull his attention away from the sword when he realized that the elf-lord was talking again. He picked up what seemed like the middle of a sentence, "and whether you like it or not, we will do what is for the best, so it will be better for your own self to just cooperate. That is all I wish to speak with you as of now." The elf-lord rose immediately and Legolas pulled himself up with a start. He felt disoriented, as though he was missing something obvious and should know what it was, but there was nothing. He looked once more around the room as the elf-lord strode lightly to the door and pulled it open. The she-elf immediately came in, fixing her gaze at once at Legolas as though she had expected to catch him doing something not to her liking.  
  
"Come," she commanded Legolas. Still feeling out of sorts and hopelessly confused, Legolas walked towards her. She turned before he made it all the way and started off, not wanting him to be too close. Legolas glanced once more at the thick iron door and then at the dark elf-lord standing next to it. He nodded at Legolas' passing and Legolas looked away. But right before he was completely through the door, Legolas flicked his eyes once more at the elf-lord. The face and eyes of the elf-lord were different than they had been a moment ago, but smoothed over again before Legolas could decipher it. The door slammed a second later, and Legolas had no choice but to follow the she-elf back to the room and be caged in like an animal. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I am not JRR Tolkien, I don't even have his initials, so I don't own what is his. I'm not even sure if I have claims to my original characters since they would be based all on his world, but whatever. I will not let go of this story, had a major brainstorm, so fear not!  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"What is your lord's name?" Legolas had the question out before he even comprehended who he was talking to.  
  
The she-elf glanced back at him, not bothering to break her stride. She answered with her head turned back to face forward, not giving him the satisfaction of actual contact when she spoke to him. "If he has not deemed that you should know then you will not."  
  
Legolas' patience was thin. "Am I at least worthy enough to know the name of my prime tormentor?" he asked softly.  
  
Yet the she-elf heard anyway, as he had thought she would, and whirled on him, slamming him against the wall before Legolas could even react. She glared at him and spoke through her teeth, "If you are referring to me, then no. You are not even worthy to be in this house, and if it were up to me you would not be." She pulled her arm away from across his chest where it had been threatening to crush his lungs. Legolas was still struggling with his instincts as to not fight a female, no matter who they were and what they did to him. So he did not move a muscle the whole time, merely hoping she would not choose to do anything more to him.  
  
The she-elf bared her teeth in a kind of snarl and turned to leading him back to the room. Within moments they were there, and the she-elf looked as if she had to contain herself from wanting to throw Legolas inside of the room. Legolas, of course, did the only thing he could to annoy her without actually causing her physical harm, he walked slow and dignified past her. The door slammed the second he was entirely through and Legolas started slightly at the loud sound. He glanced back, and sure enough, the door was made of iron.  
  
Legolas sat lightly on the edge of the bed in a lotus position and closed his eyes half-way. He did not move a muscle and went into deep thought. He now had several pieces to put together, but it was still an extremely large puzzle that he was not sure he would ever be able to figure it out. When he had first been brought here, he had been positive that these were simply rogues and were merely intent on torturing and killing him. Now that was not the case. They were elves and had an intricate society, one that he had not been aware of no less. They knew who he was, what his status was, and were apparently familiar with the other races of elves. They even knew of the darkness that had been threatening Mirkwood, or he assumed they did anyhow.  
  
Even with the information he had gathered in the few days he was here, there were still glaring problems that did not fit. He did not know exactly who these elves were, where they came from, how they fit into everything, and most importantly, what they wanted with him and Mirkwood.  
  
He recalled the strange conversation he had just had with the elf- lord. He was going to help whether Legolas wanted him to or not, so it was better to cooperate. What was that supposed to mean? If it was true help for his people, why would Legolas even want to resist? Too many questions that could not possibly be answered at this time.  
  
Legolas' thoughts began to wander away from trying to solve his complex situation and he found himself thinking of his father. He knew Thranduil had to be extremely worried about him and sending every runner out to search for him. Or at least he thought he knew. The recent dreams and visions he had had of his father left him with disconcerting feelings.  
  
'What is the use of being an heir to a throne that does not even exist?' The voice of the she-elf in his dream drifted towards him. There was a throne, and he was the heir, and that was as simple as it got. There was no reason to question any of that.  
  
But a tiny stab of doubt slivered into him.  
  
He had been told and been aware that the time of the elves was fading, his people leaving. It was soon to be up to men to take it all over. So there actually was a very good possibility that he would never actually be able to rule, the time would be over before his father was gone. And there was no usage for hierarchy in the Gray Havens.  
  
Legolas shifted uncomfortably and opened his eyes all the way. He stared at the blank, cold iron walls that made up his prison. He did not wish to think anymore, he did not want to have anymore disturbing thoughts. The young prince stretched out his legs and rose gracefully from the bed. He walked to the single window that was in his room, one that was much to small to attempt to do anything with it.  
  
Something about the panes of the window interested him. Legolas stretched out a slim hand and touched it. He drew it away slowly and thoughtfully. The windows were not made of the same thin substance used in Mirkwood, but were of a harsher crystal that appeared to be just as fragile and thin, but he knew without even testing it that it would be virtually impossible to break. Another odd thing about these elves. They had access to and used crystals that Legolas had no idea what they even were.  
  
Suddenly feeling extremely tired and discouraged, Legolas turned back to the bed. He felt his spirit wilt almost inexplicably and the pride that had been sustaining him throughout the last few days fell away from him. At this very moment, he felt more hopeless and vulnerable than he ever had. Legolas dropped himself onto the bed and closed his eyes. This was not a time for the light sleep of the elves, he wanted complete and utter unconsciousness so that he might make this nightmare pass more swiftly. 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: If you didn't know that I didn't create it, you wouldn't be reading it in the first place. Yes, that does make sense. Thanks for all the nice reviews, it's nice to know that a lot of people enjoy Legolas torture as much as I do! And yes, I had a really great time writing this chapter. Hehe, enjoy!  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Legolas' eyes jerked open as if on their own accord. He blinked, trying to clear his mind from the heavy sleep he had just put himself through. It was not often he did that, as it was often hard to wake up from and be on the alert. And something told him that right now he had to be on the alert.  
  
He struggled for a full five seconds to clear his mind and vision and bring himself up into a sitting position on the bed. And in that five seconds he realized that there was somebody in the room with him. Before the self-induced fog could lift from Legolas, he felt something grab him around the throat and haul him roughly upwards.  
  
Legolas stumbled as he was pulled off the bed and shoved to the floor. His mind was definitely clearing up now, but he still felt groggy and at a severe disadvantage. Before he could gain his footing on his own, something smashed across his chest and the little stamina he had gained was gone. The pain was enough to finally clear his mind, however, and his eyes suddenly focused sharply.  
  
There were actually several someones in his room, and they all had those hated cloaks and hoods on. Legolas wondered briefly as to why they still insisted on the cloaks when he knew what they were, but the thoughts were wiped clear for the moment when he realized that they did not have the best of intentions for him. Legolas drew himself up tautly, his muscles bunched and ready to sprig into action. He was in a slight defensive crouch and he stayed that way, waiting to see what would happen.  
  
One of the dark figures in front of him stepped aside, a sort of subtle signal, and the three figures standing behind him rose up to take his place. In dismay, Legolas saw them all advance upon him at the same time. At least they did not hold any weapons, from what he could tell anyway.  
  
Legolas took his time and waited, not wanting to waste any of his energy with being the first to lash out. The first dark figure reached him a few seconds before the others, and Legolas lashed out with his arm with lightning speed, sending the figure whirling to the side. His opponent was forgotten as he immediately refocused his attention on the two still up.  
  
The two remaining ones reached him at the same time and Legolas had to think quickly. He went down into a low crouch and swept his leg out, catching one of them and sending him crashing to the ground. The other one anticipated the move, however, and with speed that matched Legolas' own reached down and grabbed ahold of the young prince's leg. Legolas tried to free it, but the other elf's grip was like iron and he yanked on it, forcing Legolas to come out of his crouch and fight to keep his balance. Once Legolas was up and off-balance, a fist came up to meet his jaw and he was soon sprawled up against the wall.  
  
That was all they needed. The two he had already felled had recovered and all three converged on him. Two of them pinned his arms to the wall and the third stood directly in front of him. For one moment, Legolas was distracted as his eyes fell upon the fourth figure in the room. This one was still standing where he had moved to, and not moving an inch. He was merely watching, enjoying what was going on. Legolas' attention was immediately brought back to his three current problems when a hard fist collided with his stomach.  
  
Legolas let out a gasp and tried to double over, but the two holding him were cruel and did not give him any leeway in which to catch his breath. Before he could even attempt to drag in a breath, he was struck again in the same spot. Legolas' breath exploded out of him and he saw spots in front of his eyes. He frantically tried to take in a complete breath but he was struck a third time. Legolas' knees gave out, but the two had no problems in supporting his weight.  
  
Legolas braced himself for another blow, but this time it was withheld. His tormentors momentarily forgotten, Legolas merely concentrated on getting some air into his body. He was almost starting to breathe normally again when an open hand struck him across the mouth, snapping his head to the side and splitting his lip open.  
  
Legolas grimaced, which only increased the pain in his lip, but he made no sound. It seemed like an insignificant matter, but to him it was the best he could do at the moment. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him in pain.  
  
As if the elf in front of him could sense his thoughts, he dealt the young prince a particularly vicious blow across his chin, knocking his head the other way. Pain exploded in Legolas' jaw and he was almost sure that it had been broken. He closed his eyes against the assault and prayed that he would simply get through this. He was pretty sure that their intent was not to kill him, simply to torment him. A sudden blow to the chest erased that thought.  
  
Just when he thought that perhaps they were going to kill him, the two elves suddenly released their grip on his arms. Legolas collapsed immediately at the sudden lack of support and he held his jaw in his hand. He looked up at the elves that were now collected in front of him, including the fourth one who had remained an observer.  
  
"Your presence is not welcomed here," one of the elves said, "and it will not be a pleasant stay for you for as long as you are here. Fair warning for a creature as miserable as you, and more than you deserve." And with that as their only words to Legolas, they turned and silently left the room, closing the heavy door tightly behind them.  
  
As soon as they were gone, Legolas slumped forward until he was laying facedown on the floor. He rolled immediately when his injured stomach and chest objected to that. He wanted to crawl into the bed, but his body told him that movement would not be a good thing for him at the moment. So he was content to lay on the floor, trying to not even allow his chest to move that much even though his body desperately craved air.  
  
After several moments of struggle in which he finally started to breathe normally, Legolas was able to think again. He was not wanted here, that much was obvious, so why was he here? And why would they not simply kill him and be done with it? Despite what the elf-lord had stated, Legolas could not imagine them wanting to help Mirkwood and his people.  
  
That was as far in thinking that he was going to allow himself to do and Legolas slowly and painfully pulled himself up to his feet. All traces of grace had long since left him and he felt like a clumsy human as he struggled to move to the bed. He flopped down unceremoniously and then lay on the top of the bed gasping for breath again. His throat convulsed and Legolas rolled onto his side in order to rid his mouth of blood that had collected there. He touched the side of his mouth and found the evidence of his split lip, then gently felt along his jaw. Even though it had felt like it, he did not think that it was actually broken. It would definitely be sore and bruised for a while, but nothing overly serious.  
  
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rolled onto his back again. He wanted to drift off to sleep again, but this time he kept his eyes open. Never again during his stay here would he allow himself to be caught off guard. That was the best defense he had against them. They had declared as much that this would not be the last time, so he would always be ready for them. From now on, he would try to take out as many of them as he could before being brought down himself. If they wanted to make his life miserable, he would do his damnedest to do the same.  
  
Right before he drifted into an uneasy sleep, Legolas renewed the vow he had made ever since awakening in the cold depths of the dungeon. They would never hear him make a sound, and they would definitely never cause him to make a sound. That was one satisfaction he could control and deny them. 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: The only thing I really want to own is Legolas..but that's kind of another issue. Anyways, enjoy the next installment!  
  
Chapter 10  
  
The small sounds of somebody pulling at the large door were enough to immediately snap Legolas out of his light sleep. Without even thinking, Legolas rolled off the bed and crouched low next to it, his hands groping at his back and sides for weapons that were not there. He knew they would come back, but he had not anticipated it to be this soon. Legolas estimated that only about five hours had passed since his last painful encounter.  
  
The door was pulled all the way open, revealing the she-elf. Her eyes blazed momentarily before she smoothed her features and let her expression go blank. She seemed slightly surprised as to why the elf prince was in a defensive crouch, but that passed immediately as well.  
  
She stepped inside a few feet and then stopped, looking down at Legolas impatiently. For himself, Legolas merely remained where he was, not giving an inch. He would not initiate the fight with her, but he swore that this time he would end it.  
  
After a few moments of the she-elf only staring at him and not moving, she finally asked, "What are you waiting for?"  
  
"I shall let you answer that one," Legolas replied lightly, his muscles tightening for the spring should she come closer.  
  
The she-elf looked slightly puzzled again but dropped the expression before Legolas could even be sure it was truly there. "My lord has summoned you again, there is somebody he believes you might be interested in meeting." She bared her teeth in what could have been a smile, but Legolas knew better. He did not want to meet this new tormentor.  
  
"Then you can tell your lord that I am indisposed at the moment," replied Legolas, finally easing out of his crouch when he saw that there was no immediate danger. "And I am sure you can inform him as to why," he added.  
  
"You will come," she insisted, "I care not if you do not feel to be in the mood. You are not in any position to deny my lord anything."  
  
Legolas snorted. "That is not how I view it," he commented.  
  
The she-elf sprang forward at his words, but Legolas had been expecting it, and he grabbed the hand that swept out at him. Holding her by the wrist, Legolas whipped her around until her back was crushed against his chest and he tightened his grip with her own arm around her neck. She cried out softly before bringing her leg up and back down, slamming down into his shin. Legolas hissed in pain but only pulled her arm back more, forcing her head up so that she could breathe.  
  
"I would not do that again if I were you," he told her softly through his teeth. "I do not uphold fighting females, but I can see that you are insistent on being the exception."  
  
The she-elf ignored the quiet fury in his voice. "If I want to be the exception, then you can at least trust that it will be a hard fight."  
  
Legolas let out a short laugh before pushing her away from him, catching her off-balance. The she-elf regained her composure before turning to face him again, her hand rubbing at her neck absently. "My lord requests your presence," was all she spat out at him.  
  
His curiosity slightly peaked, Legolas consented. So far he had come to no harm in the presence of the dark elf-lord, and he did not think that he would now. For whatever reason the elf-lord was playing a game with him, and Legolas would play along as well until he knew what was going on. Without a grim nod, Legolas stepped out and the she-elf turned on him as if he was nothing to her at all, like she was not even leading anybody. She did not even glance back at him the entire time to the chambers of the elf- lord, but Legolas could tell she was listening for him. If he made a move in the wrong direction, she would be upon him.  
  
She pulled open the heavy doors and Legolas found himself in the large room for the second time. The elf-lord was standing in the same spot he had been the first time and a curious sense of deja-vu swept through Legolas. He found his eyes immediately fixed on the elaborate sword held above the mantle of the fireplace and he wondered at it again. His attention was disrupted from it only when the elf-lord cleared his throat.  
  
Legolas glanced at him, and realized that somebody else was in the room as well. The she-elf had said that her lord had wanted him to meet somebody, but he had not particularly believed her. The other elf had his back to Legolas, and he appeared to be staring into the fire. A light grey cloak and hood covered him from investigation, and Legolas could only tell that he was of a slightly larger build than most elves.  
  
"My dear prince of Mirkwood," the elf-lord began, a false smile plastered all over his face. Legolas was still watching the other elf, and he thought he saw the shoulders of the stranger tighten imperceptibly at the mention of his title. "I thought you might enjoy meeting a friend of mine."  
  
The stranger finally began to turn towards Legolas and one slender hand came up from within the depths of the cloak to pull the hood away from his face. The first thing Legolas saw was golden hair that matched his own and then bright blue eyes that gazed back at Legolas. For one horrible instant, Legolas thought that he was gazing at a mirror image of himself. That this was some sort of horrible trick in order to kill him and send an imposter off in his place. But then the image faded somewhat and Legolas could see the elf for who he truly was. An elf that looked very similar to him, and was most likely of his own race, but also one of power beyond any elf Legolas had ever seen.  
  
The dark elf-lord was watching as he saw Legolas take in the other elf. Legolas flicked a glance at him and he smiled broadly. "I am not sure if you have ever met our new guest, young prince, but I am sure that you have heard of him. May I introduce you to a living legend, Glorfindel."  
  
The revelation of the identity of the guest caused a surge of emotions to swell through Legolas, and for the first time in his long life he felt truly young. The one who stood before him was one who had faced a balrog and then returned from the Halls of Mandos, he indeed was a living legend. An elf-lord of power that was acquired only through death.  
  
Yet the awe and admiration quickly died out of Legolas as a new thought dawned on him. There were no marks upon Glorfindel, and he stood comfortably next to the elf-lord. He was here of his own volition, he was a friend.  
  
The elf-lord was continuing, "He is here to help me and my noble elves on our virtuous quest."  
  
Legolas heard no more from the elf-lord, for he only felt his heart sink and sudden despair well up through him. 


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Yes, yes, I am aware of the dreadful wait for the update and I am truly sorry!!! Please don't worry, school is over with for the semester and I have seen The Two Towers, twice by now actually, and my Lord of the Rings obsession is in full gear again! This story will prevail and updates will not lag! Mwahahaha! Um, anyways, I don't own Tolkien's stuff by the way.  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The dark elf-lord was speaking again, and Legolas had to snap himself out of his despairing thoughts in order to make sense of what he was saying. "I hope you will cooperate and get along with Lord Glorfindel, it will only make things that much easier for all of us, young prince." The dark elf- lord's smile was never ceasing.  
  
Legolas strained to find some sort of reply, but his mind suddenly refused to work. He was too much in awe of the legendary elf to speak, and at the same time he was terrified to learn that Glorfindel was an ally of the dark elf-lord. As far as he had been able to gather, the dark elf-lord did not hold good intentions for him or for Mirkwood, despite what he said. Matching Glorfindel along with him was too much for the young elf to grasp.  
  
Legolas stared at Glorfindel, only to find that his gaze was being returned by the fair being. Legolas knew his confusion was clearly written upon his face, and he looked for some sort of sign from Glorfindel that there was something Legolas was not aware of. Some inner plan that would aid Legolas and get him away from this mad elf. But Glorfindel stood placidly, his features carefully smoothed over. Absolutely nothing was revealed upon his face, and the only sign Legolas could pick up on was the relaxed state he was in. He had absolutely no fear of the dark elf lord.  
  
The dark elf lord was still speaking to Legolas, and the raised pitch in his tone made Legolas pay attention. "Seeing as how you are not going to answer any of my questions or even show proper respect to my friend, you will be escorted back to your room now. I must say I am continually displeased with your lack of courtesy towards those in a position higher than you. I will see to you personally about that later."  
  
With those as his final words, he turned his back and the she-elf immediately materialized at Legolas' side. She reached out and tugged on the sleeve of Legolas' tunic briefly. Legolas promptly snatched his arm away from her and turned to follow on his own will. The she-elf fumed at his display of arrogance and she looked as though she wanted to punish him for it. But one glance from the dark elf lord stopped her and she only turned to lead the way back to his room.  
  
Once back in the room that Legolas was quickly beginning to hate, the she-elf locked the heavy door and Legolas was once again left alone. The elf prince went to the bed and sat down heavily, his head in his hands. His mind could not even begin to put the new pieces of the puzzle together and he did not even bother to try. He was tired and wearied from his plight and only wanted to be able to return home and out of this hell.  
  
Sleep was upon Legolas before he knew it and he found himself in the halls of his home again. He watched as his father led a large group of elves to the outskirts of Mirkwood. They were setting off to the great ships that would take them to the Grey Havens, Legolas knew. As in his dreams before, Legolas felt as though he was there but unable to do anything about it. He watched his father and the other elves silently as they ventured out into the forests of Mirkwood to the shoreline.  
  
"May your trip be fare and well," Thranduil called out to the departing group. "It will not be long before the rest of us join you in the undying lands. Be well and may the Valar guide you along a safe and true path."  
  
Legolas watched the elves go, and he realized the need for his father's words. The woods looked darker than he remembered and the air was full of unclear intentions. Ropes of mist hid the ground and the dark leaves of the tree hid whatever may be lurking in them.  
  
The elves passed through quickly and quietly, their lights burning brightly to show the way in the darkness. Before the group of departing elves were even out of eyesight, King Thranduil turned back with two soldiers and went back to the palace. Legolas followed silently, only watching and nothing more.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Legolas saw a shadow leap out of the trees in the direction of his father. Legolas tried to shout a warning, but his voice failed in his throat. He then tried to lift his bow and kill whatever was advancing, but he could not do that either. He was paralyzed, and could do nothing.  
  
The elf soldier on Thranduil's right flank was the first to be aware of the danger. He pivoted and pulled up his bow with an arrow fitted to it in one swift motion. But before he could release the arrow, the large creature crashed into him and sent him to the ground. Legolas could finally see that it was a spider from the woods. The spiders had been especially bothersome to the elves during the darkest times of the woods, but hardly did they dare to come so close to the palace.  
  
The other elf soldier drew his bow with an arrow and stepped in front of Thranduil. He shot at the spider and hit his mark, but the arrow only stuck into the spiders rough hide and did nothing except to anger it. The spider lifted itself off of the original elf and launched itself at the other, crashing into and consequently bringing down both the soldier and Thranduil.  
  
Legolas watched horrified as the spider began to wrap its rough silk around the two elves. The original soldier was lying motionless on the ground. With a crude covering around them, he began to drag them off into the woods, undoubtedly to its nest so that he could devour the elves later. Legolas tried once more to move, and found that he could not. He could finally make a sound, however, and Legolas cried out his frustration and anguish.  
  
With a jolt, Legolas jerked himself out of sleep. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, and he looked about the dark room with large eyes, frantically convincing himself that what he had just witnessed had not been real. However he could not shake the feeling that his father was in danger, and he stood from off of the bed. If his father was in danger, then that meant all of Mirkwood was in danger. He had to get home.  
  
Legolas strode to the iron door and pressed on it. He had tested it before and knew it was strong, but that did not stop the hope in him. He pressed and then pulled on it without the door giving an inch. Legolas wasted little time on the door and instead strode to the single window. He drew back his arm and smashed his fist into the clear crystal. Not a crack appeared in it even as blood immediately sprang from Legolas' knuckles. He would not try another blow, for he knew that he would break his hand before the window.  
  
Feeling frustrated and anxious, Legolas strode around the whole of the room, searching for any give in the structure. There was nothing. Legolas gritted his teeth and kicked out at a small endtable. It upturned and smashed and Legolas had a small feeling of triumph. At least not everything was unbreakable in this place.  
  
Legolas stood still in the center of the room and dropped his head. Even if he did break out of the room, what then? He had no idea where to go to exit and there were many elves in the castle. He would undoubtedly be caught and punished.  
  
Legolas jerked his head up in surprise when he heard somebody at the door. It was pulled open a moment later and the dark elf lord strode in. The door was closed immediately behind him and he regarded Legolas with his cold look. His glance turned and his eyes fell upon the recently destroyed endtable. He looked back at Legolas.  
  
"Is this another sign of your disrespect for our hospitality? I have had all I can handle with this."  
  
Legolas snapped before thinking, "Then let me free and worry no more about it."  
  
The dark elf lord looked taken aback. "You will hold your tongue for your own good," he said quietly, "and one day you will realize what good I have done for you and most likely have only kind regards for me."  
  
Legolas was brazen in his defiance, "I hardly think so. I will never have kind thoughts for one who keeps me imprisoned against my will and has me beaten regularly."  
  
"Most learn from their painful experiences," the elf lord informed Legolas darkly.  
  
"I learn nothing from an unfair fight, except to know that it is unfair," Legolas shot back. He was well aware that he was bordering on unsafe boundaries, but there was only the single elf lord. He might be able to at least give him something to think about.  
  
The elf lord gestured to the faint sign of the wound that still lingered from his split lip the night before. Legolas often healed fairly quickly, but it had been a deep cut. "I can see that even the tokens of last night demonstration were not enough to encourage you to keep your tongue. Perhaps not only will your lip have to be split but your tongue removed. Then we will see what respect you have learned."  
  
Before Legolas could say anything, the dark elf lord had covered the distance between them and smashed his fist into Legolas' mouth, reopening the previous cut. Legolas stumbled back and brought a hand to his jaw. He waited for the elf lord to come at him again so that he might block the blow and then cut his own lip, but the elf lord started to back away.  
  
"You will come to dinner again tonight and act like a respectable prince should, especially in front of Glorfindel. Afterwards, Glorfindel and I will be discussing on what is to be done about Mirkwood. If you behave well, you might be allowed to join in the discussion. If not, you will have a worse night than the last one. Think hard about my proposal and I will have Eirien come see to you when dinner is ready." The elf lord paused and smiled, "but I suggest that you clean yourself up some. Blood does not seem suitable for a young prince."  
  
Legolas kept his silence and watched balefully as the elf lord knocked twice on the door and it was pulled open from the outside. The elf lord stepped out of the room and the door was firmly pushed shut and locked once again.  
  
Slowly, Legolas walked to the small wash basin and put a handful of water to his mouth. As he cleaned it he thought over the elf lord's last remarks. He had mentioned the name Eirien. Was that the name of the elf maiden then? He would wait to see as she had not considered him fit to know. A small smile came to Legolas as he knew it would anger her to know that he knew her name. Legolas finished carefully cleaning his lip until he was sure all the blood was gone. There was no looking glass in the room, but he was sure that his lip would carry the mark for at least a few days. It was painful to the touch from the repeated abuse.  
  
Legolas then perched on top of the bed in the favored lotus position and tried to think of all the possible scenarios that would happen tonight. He had a feeling that the elf lord would make it hard for him to 'act respectful' as he had offered a reward that would be of interest to Legolas. He longed to know what the elf lord had in store for Mirkwood. No matter what happened, the prince vowed that he would find out what was going on tonight. 


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Umm, I had fun writing this chapter, you'll see what I mean.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
The sun had already set before Legolas finally heard somebody at his door. It was pulled open to reveal the she-elf, who did not look particularly happy about always having to fetch the elf prince. She was wearing her usual dark clothing, but the black dress she had on tonight was low cut and form fitting, a formal garb. Tonight's dinner must be important. Legolas himself was wearing the silver and gold outfit he had been put in for the first dinner.  
  
Legolas stood from where he had been resting on the bed and regarded her. She did not say a word and only turned around so that he would follow. She started walking away, but Legolas stayed where he was. Eventually, the she-elf turned only to find that he was not following.  
  
"I do not have time for any of your tricks tonight," she told him, anger already evident in her voice.  
  
Legolas raised his eyebrows in innocence. "I have no tricks, I was merely waiting for you to address me to follow you."  
  
"You are not worth wasting my breath," she replied.  
  
Legolas quietly advanced and she turned once more to lead him. Legolas waited in silence until they were about halfway to the dining hall. "What are tonight's festivities Eirien?" He paused right before saying the name and drew it out slowly.  
  
The effect on the she-elf was what he had expected. She froze in her tracks and then whirled to face him. Her hand was out to slap him across the face, but Legolas easily caught her wrist and held it in air. The she- elf fumed.  
  
"How dare you say my name," she hissed at him.  
  
"It is not that bad of a name," Legolas told her.  
  
Eirien jerked her hand out of his grasp and took a few steps backwards. She turned once more and started off again, keeping further ahead of him then she normally did. Legolas held a smile on his face as he walked, he at least had the satisfaction of being able to annoy her.  
  
They reached the dining hall and Eirien immediately disappeared, no longer concerned by Legolas at all. As soon as Legolas stepped into the hall, he was grabbed roughly from behind by one of the doorsmen. Legolas was about to fight to get out of the harsh hold, but he remembered the words of the elf lord. He would have to at least try to be on good behaviour if he wanted to find out what the elf lord's plans were. Plus, he wanted a chance to be able to talk to Glorfindel.  
  
So Legolas complied as he was pushed with more force than was necessary to a place at the table. This time, he was seated at the far end of it rather than at the head near the elf lord. Legolas understood the subtle meaning, he was no longer considered an important guest. He was surrounded by elves that looked as though they were soldiers for the elf lord, and they all looked at Legolas as if he was a dirty dwarf that had wandered in to sit at their table uninvited.  
  
Legolas kept his head high and refused to meet any of their gaze. Inside, he was burning with indignation. Never had he been treated like this. When food was placed before him, Legolas inspected it suspiciously. He remembered well the feeling of fire and agony of the night after he had eaten last time and how he must have been poisoned by the food. Legolas finally ate the piece of bread that was on the plate, figuring that there was no way to mask the taste of poison in bread, and touched nothing else.  
  
One of the elves on his right noticed. "Is the food not good enough for a prince?" he asked caustically.  
  
Legolas answered carefully. "It is well enough, I am merely not hungry tonight."  
  
"Perhaps it is the wound on his lip that keeps him from eating in peace," another elf commented with laughter following his remark.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. He longed so much to have his bow and be able to put an arrow through each and every one of them. He knew this was what the elf lord had wanted. He wanted Legolas to start a fight so that he could then be thrown back into his cell of a room and then probably even beaten later for his lack of respect.  
  
"My lip does not bother me at all," Legolas replied quietly, trying to retain as much dignity as possible.  
  
"Salt might help that," answered an elf who sat across from him and he threw a handful of salt in his face. Legolas reacted before even thinking. He was up and leaning across the table with his hand locked around the other elf's throat before he even knew he had moved. All the elves immediately surrounding him surged up as well and Legolas was yanked to the side before he could do anything. He let go of the other elf, who fell on the table choking, and turned to meet the one who had pulled him away. Legolas smashed a fist into his face and pushed him hard onto the floor.  
  
Legolas then turned to face another elf coming up on his left, but an arm locked around his throat from behind and hauled him down and backwards. Legolas lost his footing and fell to the ground. Five or so of the elf soldiers were immediately on him and though Legolas fought as well as he could there was no way for him to be able to regain his feet. He was kicked several times in the ribs and stomach and his vision went dark when a shin cracked against his skull.  
  
Before he could even see straight again, there was more shouting and the elves were being pulled off of him. Legolas was hauled roughly to his feet and then led blindly out of the dining hall. Once out into the ever drafty hallway, he was stopped and held still. Legolas blinked and his vision slowly cleared. The elf lord was standing in front of him with Glorfindel at his side.  
  
"I told you to behave yourself tonight," the elf lord started, "but I see that it will be impossible for you to do so. Since you insist on behaving like an animal, you will have to be treated as one." The elf lord gestured to the elf holding Legolas from behind, "See that he is readied, I will be there as soon as I can."  
  
Legolas had no idea what he was talking about, but the other elf started to push Legolas in the direction opposite of the one to the rooms. Legolas struggled briefly, but he was cuffed upside the head in the same spot that had already been injured and his vision danced again. Legolas could not regain enough of his senses to continue to fight and he was led into a new room. Here two other elves were already waiting and they each latched onto one of Legolas' arms and held him while the one who had brought him to the room went forward to the far side of the room. The room was dark, but Legolas could make out the sound of metal chains clanking together on the stone wall.  
  
On some kind of cue, the two elves holding Legolas began to drag him forward to the far side. Legolas still was not sure what was going on, but he had at least an idea and he knew that it would not be pleasant. Legolas dug in with his heels and fought to get free. As a result, his legs were kicked out from underneath him and Legolas was then dragged to the far wall. Dimly, he was aware that the floor was dirt.  
  
A torch was finally lit and the light blazed into the room when Legolas was brought to the far wall. He looked up to see manacles pinned into the wall as he had suspected. The elf prince was pushed up with his back against the wall and his wrists were encased in the manacles before he could even begin to resist. When he was secure, one of the elves ripped his tunic off, leaving Legolas' chest bare. Then all three stepped back and grinned at Legolas.  
  
Legolas pulled hard on the chains, but quickly gave up when he saw that it would do no good and that his struggling was entertaining to his three tormentors. Instead, Legolas stood quietly, his eyes closed.  
  
Footsteps sounded and Legolas opened his eyes to see the elf lord, Glorfindel, and Eirien come into the room. The dark elf lord held a long whip in his hand.  
  
"This is what we do to tame unruly beasts around here," the elf lord told Legolas, "and it is obvious that such actions will be required in order to get you to comply and act obediently."  
  
Legolas hardly thought that the elf lord would listen if he told him that the fight had not been his fault, so he kept his mouth shut. The elf lord had paused as if waiting for some kind of response, but when he received none his mouth drew into a taut line and he wheeled his arm back.  
  
The lash came down hard upon Legolas' flesh, leaving a burning trail from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip. Legolas jerked in pain, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. The elf lord shook out the whip and brought it back to his side, preparing it for another strike. This time, the whip went lower and curled around Legolas' side, ripping open a small wound when it was yanked back again. Then the elf lord brought down the whip repeatedly, hardly pausing between lashes. The whip danced and bit about Legolas and it was all he could do to keep from crying out.  
  
The rain of blows was becoming more intolerable and the young elf prince closed his eyes, concentrating on only being able to breathe. He was starting to feel sick, and his legs refused to support him any longer. Legolas sagged forward, his weight supported by the cruel manacles. And still the lashings continued, one of them catching Legolas on the cheek and ripping a scarlet line across it.  
  
"That is enough," a voice finally said. The whip fell one more time and then stopped. Legolas found he was holding his breath, expecting the whip to come at him again, but no more came. He opened his eyes a slit and saw that Glorfindel was holding the dark elf lord's wrist. He had been the one to stop him.  
  
The elf lord did not look entirely pleased that Glorfindel had stopped him. "He needs something to remember his disobedience by."  
  
Glorfindel spoke calmly, "He will remember it even without you beating him within an inch of his life."  
  
The elf lord looked as though he wanted to say more, but his face smoothed out and was replaced by the royal pleasant look he often wore. "Of course, he seems to be a smart enough boy." The elf lord glanced over at Legolas, "however I believe it will do him even more good for him to spend the night here. Then he will be more appreciative of our generous accommodations. Come Lord Glorfindel, we have much to discuss." 


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Did I ever mention I love you all for your wonderful reviews? Cause I really do. And oh yeah, I aint Tolkien, in case anybody had forgotten. Now here's some more and I hope you enjoy!  
  
To Aireroswen: Hope your ankle is feeling better! :)  
  
Chapter 13  
  
The elf lord threw down the whip and exited the room with Glorfindel following. Legolas took a deep breath and tried to straighten up in order to ease the weight off of his wrists, but he could not quite get his legs to cooperate. After a very brief struggle, he gave up and simply hung there, his head falling forward onto his chest. The best he could do right now was concentrate on breathing. His lungs were strained from his chest being stretched out so, but he could not possibly breathe and force his legs to hold him up at the same time.  
  
When he finally got to the point to where his lungs were operating on their own without thought, Legolas became aware that he was not yet alone in the room. Carefully, he raised his head a few inches. Eirien stood in front of him, a definite smile on her face. Her arms were crossed lazily over her chest, mocking him with her easy posture.  
  
Legolas struggled to stand up straight and appear to be dignified, and he felt minor triumph when his legs finally obeyed him. He tried to ease his breathing so that it did not look like he had been affected that much, but that proved to be impossible.  
  
The she-elf watched him quietly, seemingly finding entertainment in the elf prince battling with his own body and losing. "Have you finally remembered your manners?" she asked eventually.  
  
"I did nothing wrong," Legolas gasped out, hating that his weak voice gave him away. A sudden spasm of pain gripped his body and his legs gave out on him. He slumped forward until he was hanging by the wrists again.  
  
Eirien was talking, aloud but almost to herself. "Well I suppose you think that you did nothing wrong, what with your upbringing and the way you were taught to think and believe. Still, I trust that we have found an excellent way of fixing your behaviour."  
  
Legolas felt like he had just been given an important piece of information, one that he could use to figure out why he was here, but he was too tired and in too much pain to even particularly care about it. He could not even bring himself to answer to the she-elf. With his head hanging down and his eyes fixed on the dirt floor, Legolas was able to see the discarded whip laying on the floor. And he also saw it start to move and slide out of his vision.  
  
Slowly, Legolas struggled to bring his head up. Eirien had bent down and was now holding the whip. She stood gracefully and brought it up with her. With expert ease, she flicked it out and cracked it, creating a quick snap. She looked over to see Legolas watching her intently and she smiled at him. Unconsciously, Legolas' muscles tensed.  
  
Lazily, Eirien swept the whip back and forth, letting it play about the ground. She watched Legolas as she did it and saw that he could not keep his eyes off of the whip. He was readying himself for the fresh bites of the whip.  
  
Eirien laughed out loud and Legolas finally tore his eyes from the whip and looked at her. "I do believe the brave prince is scared," she commented, "how interesting."  
  
Legolas said nothing and let his head fall back onto his chest. He closed his eyes. The she-elf could do whatever she wanted, he would not let her think that she had the ability to hold something over him.  
  
So it was with some surprise that Legolas suddenly felt the whip coil around his neck. He opened his eyes and straightened quickly out of reflex. Too quickly. His injured muscles screamed in protest and a wave of dizziness overcame him. Had he not been held to the wall he would have fallen. As it was, the whip tightened around his neck and he was vaguely aware that the she-elf was of course the one doing it. But it did not tighten all the way and cut off his oxygen and Legolas was surprised when his legs gave out again, and he did fall forward this time.  
  
Landing hard on his knees, Legolas brought his arms down in time to prevent himself from sprawling completely on the floor. He stayed in that position for a moment, his tired mind not able to grasp what had just happened to him. Eventually, he was able to figure out that he had been released from the manacles chaining him to the wall.  
  
The elf prince felt a pull at his neck and Legolas peered upwards. Eirien stood over him, one hand holding the end of the whip. "If you want to be able to reach your room you will have to walk, I will not carry you."  
  
Legolas was confused. He had been convinced that he had been meant to stay in this room all night, maybe even longer, and he had not heard the elf lord tell Eirien to take him back to his room. His confusion was interrupted by another harsh tug and Legolas struggled painfully to his feet.  
  
Eirien walked before him, leading him like a beast on a leash. And Legolas felt like one, for he would occasionally have to scramble along on his knees until he could get his feet back underneath one. The distance to his room seemed like an unending journey of torment. His battered body did not want to move and his lungs had forgotten how to breathe again. Every time Legolas tried to stop the whip was pulled on impatiently.  
  
"Hurry up," Eirien said impatiently once when he fell against the wall of the hall. "If anybody sees us they will take you back and you will be unable to rest in a bed."  
  
Legolas began to move again, but he was sure he had not heard her correctly. The blow to his temple must have been more serious than he thought, for it almost sounded like Eirien was actually trying to help him. And in his short experience with her, he knew that would never happen.  
  
In a haze of pain, Legolas was only dimly aware when they finally reached his room. Rough hands pulled the front of his tunic and he was literally dragged the last few feet inside of the room. Once let go, he collapsed on the floor and lay there like a dead thing. He was on the verge of blackness and was only vaguely aware that the whip was being pulled off of his neck.  
  
Eirien's voice filtered down to him, "If anybody asks, somebody else came to get you, not I." Legolas did not have the strength to give any type of response and he felt her foot prod at his still form. The she-elf sighed. "If he dies it is not my fault," then she added in almost a whisper, "would be a pity though." And then Legolas was alone. He did not even hear the door shut and lock.  
  
He lay without moving, all his energy spent. With no more adrenaline keeping him going, all the new wounds to his body began to protest and demand attention that he could not give to them. His head especially started to throb and it was a while before he could remember why. His temple had been slammed in the brief fight. The realization of the head injury made him fight to stay awake. It was not wise to fall asleep right after sustaining a serious head wound, because then he might never wake up.  
  
Legolas could not fall into the so tempting oblivion of unconsciousness, he had to make himself stay awake. Moving was out of the question, so Legolas instead began to sing very quietly to himself. He sang all the old songs of his childhood, the ones that made him think of Mirkwood and his father and much better times.  
  
Legolas had no idea how long he sang or even if he was singing out loud half of the time. But he froze when there was the undeniable sound of someone turning a key in his door. He remembered something about Eirien saying that he should not say she had brought him in, which meant he was not even supposed to be in here. Legolas wanted to get up and brace for another form of punishment or fight, but the best he could do was roll over partially on his back.  
  
The door opened and then closed almost as quickly. Legolas turned his head in the direction of the door, thinking that maybe somebody had just glanced in and had not seen him on the floor. But that was not to be, and Legolas quickly realized somebody was now in the room with him.  
  
"Young prince," a voice called out to him, "why do you make such trouble for yourself?"  
  
Legolas blinked and fought to get into a sitting position. Thankfully, he was able to drag his body upwards and lean against the bed so that he could see who he was talking to. The haze cleared from his sharp eyes and he was able to make out the form of Glorfindel standing quietly by his door.  
  
"My Lord," Legolas began, coughing a bit as he spoke, "I do not bring this upon myself."  
  
"I have been informed on what your father has done," Glorfindel spoke softly, "and how it has started to affect you. If you would just give in to us, we could then help you and your people."  
  
Legolas was struck silent for a moment. He did not understand what Glorfindel was talking about. "My Lord, what do you mean by that?"  
  
"Worry not," Glorfindel spoke softly, "we do not plan on punishing you for the deeds of your father. It is not your fault that Greenwood the Great fell into shadow and became Mirkwood. We only need your cooperation in order to restore the stronghold of the elves."  
  
Legolas almost choked as he heard this and he had to clear his throat before speaking. "It was not the fault of my father either," Legolas insisted, "he did all he could in order to save our home from being completely overrun. Many of our people lost their lives in the battle, and my father almost lost his as well. The only reason that he did not clear all of the shadow from Mirkwood was because the time of the elves is fading, we do not have enough left to completely take back the forest."  
  
Even in the dark, Legolas could see Glorfindel frown slightly. "You sound as though you are speaking the earnest truth," he said quietly.  
  
"I am," Legolas started to rise but decided against it when his muscles protested against him. "I know not what you have been told, but for my part of the tale, I was ambushed on a hunting trip. I can only assume my companions were slaughtered and I was held in what felt like a stone tomb for at least two days. Then I was brought up here after being tortured and treated as an unwanted guest. I have done no wrong here and have only been persecuted mercilessly. If you wish to help me and my people, I only ask that you help me get out of here."  
  
Legolas watched Glorfindel as the older elf stood silently, his bright eyes shining faintly in the dark. "Now I have heard two different tales," he finally said, "and I am not sure of which to believe. Rest easy tonight young prince, I will find out the truth behind all of this."  
  
Before Legolas could say anything else Glorfindel turned and opened the door. He slipped out quickly and the door closed again. This time Legolas audibly heard the lock. 


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Okay, okay, I know a lot of you are confused, it's okay! All I have to ask is that you trust me. The confusion will be cleared up in time, and I'm sorry if it is frustrating to some of you that I'm taking so long to provide information. Just trust that there is an actual plot in this and I'm not simply torturing out poor elf randomly. If some of you still feel confused by the end of the story, feel free to completely chew me out as I did not do my job as a writer. Besides all that, thanks once again for the reviews and no I don't own Tolkien's stuff. Alright then, here's another chapter for ya'll.  
  
Chapter 14  
  
Now Legolas felt he had more pieces to the puzzle and some very important ones at that. Yet before he could think anything through, he became aware of the pain signals his body was giving him. He had been on the cold hard floor for far too long.  
  
Reaching first one hand up to the top of the bed and then the other, Legolas pulled himself up so that the upper half of his body was laying on the bed. He tried to be careful of his still fresh wounds, but inevitably disturbed more than a few of them and he hissed at the pain. Once he had his upper body on the bed, he crawled the rest of the way until he was laying down fully on his back. He found it amazing that he had to catch his breath after the brief exertion. He should be healing faster than this.  
  
Legolas had intended to lay quietly and think over his conversation with Glorfindel, but he underestimated the tired state of his body and he felt himself drifting off into the promising realms of sleep. He thought briefly of the injury to his head and the fact that he should not sleep, but then gave up. He no longer cared whether he was in danger of waking or not.  
  
Sleep took him immediately and he once again found himself back in Mirkwood. He recalled vaguely the last time this had happened and the encounter between his father and the spiders. But his father was before him, sitting alone in the great hall on his throne. He held his head in his hands and simply sat.  
  
"Even in times like these he still sits in the one spot where he feels most powerful."  
  
Legolas stiffened as soon as he heard the voice. He knew without even turning that it was Eirien at his side, as she had been in many of his dreams since being captured. "Times like what?" Legolas asked bitterly.  
  
Eirien stepped so that she was in front of him. "Times where he knows he has sold his kingdom into darkness, bartered for his own pride. He even gave up on his only heir without a second thought."  
  
Legolas looked past Eirien at his father where he sat in the throne, doing nothing about what was happening around him. That was unlike him. Legolas fully knew that his father was a very active ruler, leading armies into battle and seeing to problems first hand. Whether the throne was truly important or not was not an issue to Legolas, he knew his father would never give up like this. He would fight with the last of his people until he was dead.  
  
"He needs to be stopped," Eirien whispered to Legolas, "and only you can do that."  
  
Realization suddenly flashed through Legolas. It felt like it was almost a tangible hit, and it was enough to jerk him out of his sleep. Legolas sat up in his bed and reached out blindly into the darkness. His suspicions were confirmed when he felt his hand lock around something.  
  
Legolas pulled on the she-elf roughly and brought her down underneath him until he was towering over her, both of his hands locked around her throat. Although he still was not up to full strength, the little sleep he had had was enough to get his muscles cooperating again.  
  
"So you have been poisoning me in my sleep. Affecting my dreams to convince me that my father is the villain." Legolas shook her to let her know that the bite in his voice and his anger was serious, "You are going to answer all of my questions and tell me exactly what is going on around here, understand?" When Eirien did nothing except glare up at him hatefully, Legolas shook her again. "Understand?"  
  
Eirien still said nothing, but Legolas decided to start with his questions anyway. "Why am I here?"  
  
Legolas was slightly surprised when she actually answered him. "Because my lord wishes it to be so. Nobody else wants you here, least of all me."  
  
"Why is Glorfindel here?" Legolas pushed on with his next question.  
  
"Because my lord asked for him to come, said that there was an important matter concerning Mirkwood falling completely into shadow." Eirien sounded as though she was explaining something to a slow child.  
  
Legolas thought for a moment before continuing, "Why have you been influencing my dreams to turn me against my father? What is your concern over the throne?"  
  
Eirien smirked. "I care nothing over your throne or your people for that matter. I only do what my lord tells me to do."  
  
"Who is your lord? What is his name?" Legolas asked the main questions that had been plaguing him the most, the fact that he had no idea who these elves were and that they even existed.  
  
"Think back to the earliest legends you have been told and you will find my lord. He is above you and all other elves that live on this world." Eirien's voice held a definite note of pride as she said this.  
  
Legolas leaned down close to her, "What is your lord planning for Mirkwood?"  
  
Instead of answering, Eirien pushed up and her forehead collided with Legolas' before he could pull himself back. His grip on her throat loosened and the she-elf kicked up with all of her strength, sending Legolas toppling off of the bed and onto the floor. Before he could get up, Eirien had leapt to her feet and then down to the ground next to him. Legolas anticipated that she would merely run to the door and out of the room, but he had forgotten her fury.  
  
Eirien reached down and grabbed Legolas by the shoulders, hauling him up a few feet from the ground before slamming him forcefully back down into it. Legolas saw orbs before his eyes as the back of his skull connected with the stone floor. For good measure, Eirien reached down again, but this time chose to rake her nails over Legolas' chest. The immediate sensation to the elf prince was one of absolute fire as his welts were ripped anew. Legolas gasped with the pain and gripped the floor hard.  
  
Satisfied, Eirien then calmly walked to the door and opened it. "Try to use me again for information elf and I will give you more for your troubles," she said coldly as Legolas writhed in pain. She then left him alone to his misery.  
  
Even as Legolas' body screamed in pain, his mind was working to put all the information together. He now knew that the dark elf lord wanted to do something to Mirkwood and Thranduil but could not do it on his own. Obviously, he had more intricate plans than Legolas had originally thought concerning his own capture. As for Glorfindel, he was a powerful elf lord in his own right, and the dark elf lord had poisoned him with some type of lie. One that would turn him against the elves of Mirkwood.  
  
Legolas thought back to what the she-elf had told him about the dark elf lord. He was in the old legends? Had he played a major part or a minor part? As much as Legolas tried to think, all the old elf lords he could come up with did not include this unknown one. Briefly, Legolas thought if he had any connections with Lord Elrond of Rivendell as he had similar coloring. But the Rivendell elves were a part of nature, the atmosphere in which these elves dwelled was only similar to the dwarves.  
  
The thought of dwarves induced a glimmer in the back of Legolas' mind. He had heard something when he was very young about a certain elf that had lived solitarily and had befriended the dwarves, living close to their mines and using their technology. He had only chosen to give up his solitary life in order to take a bride, but that had turned out to be a disaster.  
  
As much as Legolas tried to think, he could not come up with the rest of the legend, he was too tired to think straight. For the second time that night he crawled into the bed. Thankfully, his sleep was not disturbed by dreams this time. 


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: No, I'm not Tolkien, I don't own his characters and am making absolutely no money from this. Thanks once again for the reviews and here's some more for you to enjoy, or hate, whatever.  
  
Elentari Manwe: Close, very close! *winks*  
  
Chapter 15  
  
Morning came and the small amount of sunlight that was able to filter through the single window in Legolas' room woke him. He looked about for a few moments, the recent events of last night evading him. Quicker than he wished, he remembered what had all happened and he groaned softly. He did not want to move, anticipating that his body would be more than a bit sore, but he was not prone to lying in bed longer than was necessary.  
  
With a grim sigh of resolution, the young elf prince carefully sat up in bed. The fresh wounds on his chest from the lashings and from the she- elf were tender and there was an incessant throbbing in his head. But he could get his muscles to cooperate almost effortlessly and he knew that he would be able to move about with no trouble. He was healing, even if it was a little slower than normal.  
  
Legolas stood up from the bed and went to the small wash basin on the far side of the room. He picked up the pitcher and poured water into the basin. He was faintly surprised that there was even water in the pitcher, but then decided that the other elves had probably not yet thought of trying to deny him water. Legolas splashed the cold water on his face and rubbed his neck. He washed as much dried blood and dirt from his chest as he could and then turned away from the basin. He pulled on a green tunic he found in the armoire that smelled of dust and age and then sat back down on the bed. There was nothing else he could do so he sat cross-legged and tried to envision what would be in store for him today. He hoped it would not be another failed dinner party.  
  
Hours dragged by and nothing happened. Legolas had long since stood and was standing by the thick window, trying to make out what little of the scenery he could. From the small window he could see that there were many trees on the outside. They were tall and very old and created such a dense foliage that little of the sun could be seen through them. Vaguely the trees reminded Legolas of the tales of Fangorn forest and he wondered if maybe that was where he was. Yet there were many old forests in the tales of Middle-Earth and Legolas had a feeling that this was not Fangorn.  
  
From what he could see, Legolas could tell that he was definitely not in Rivendell, so all ties to Imladris were broken in Legolas' mind. He also knew that he was not in the wood of Lothlorien and definitely not in Mirkwood, so these elves had to be an entirely separate race from anything he had known. Ones who favored darkness and metal over wood and light.  
  
Legolas turned from the window. All the information it provided him was only able to help him rule out possibilities, and to him he had just ruled out every possibility. These elves should not exist.  
  
Eirien's taunting voice came back to him. 'Think back to the earliest legends.'  
  
Most of the legends that Legolas knew were of the Sindarin elves and the major occurrences in the history of Middle-Earth. These elves did not fit in anywhere with that. The only tale that even remotely fit was the one of the elf who had befriended the dwarves and loved their metalwork. But that would not account for Glorfindel being here. Legolas had one more bit of information that was tied to the legend of the dwarf-friend and that was that he had not been a friend of the Gondolin. Glorfindel had been the chief of the Gondolin. He would not be helping one who was not a friend.  
  
Legolas wished to speak to Glorfindel again. He would be the only one he would be able to get a straight answer from. He certainly would get no where with Eirien. She answered with taunts and riddles if she answered at all. Legolas hoped he would be able to see Glorfindel today, perhaps at the dining hall.  
  
Thoughts of the dining hall suddenly brought something else to Legolas' attention. He was actually quite hungry. He had had very little to eat yesterday and no food had been brought to him today. In fact, he had been left alone for a long while today. That was unusual. Legolas gauged that it had to be at least mid-day. Normally he was given something to eat in the morning and then told that the elf lord had some sort of outrageous request for him. Then again, he had only been here for little less than a week, it was hardly enough time to develop a routine. Maybe the elf lord had run out of ideas for him and was simply going to leave him alone. Legolas hoped for that option.  
  
The day dragged by and soon what little sun was filtering through the trees and window stopped. Darkness fell quickly and completely. Legolas lit the single lamp in his room and went back to the pacing he had been doing for the bulk of the day. He was still hungry but decided to not pay any attention to it as it would do him no good. He was becoming anxious as the hours passed by. This was the longest he had been left alone, and it was making him uneasy. It made him feel that the elves and the elf lord were busy contriving something to do to him. A new trick or act to be played out.  
  
When it became clear that nobody was coming to get Legolas to bring him to the evening meal Legolas blew out the lamp and slipped into the bed. At the very least he should be thankful. He would be able to regain his strength and rest up without harassment.  
  
Two more days passed in the same fashion. The lack of food was bothering Legolas, but the lack of water proved to be worse. On the second day he had drunk the dirtied water from the wash basin to slack his thirst and then used what little was left in the pitcher on the third day. Now the water was gone and Legolas was starting to go slightly mad from the isolation. He was reminded of the first few days he had spent down in the stone dungeon, but this was hardly a better situation. Rather he was placed in a seemingly cheerful situation in order to go mad.  
  
Legolas could not sit still. He had tried sleeping most of the days away, but that proved to be impossible and now the hunger pangs kept him from sleeping at night. It was the night of the third day in his isolation and he could do nothing but pace. He had to keep moving even though the very act of it made him sick. He had no bonds to struggle against, he had regained all of his strength and the wounds on his chest were now little more than small marks. The freedom of his body mocked his situation, that he could move about yet still be able to do nothing.  
  
His previous tries with the window had prevented him from trying to break it, but in his growing fervor he found himself eyeing it again. He knew the thick crystal that occasionally let in what little sunlight there was was next to impossible to break, but he walked to it anyway.  
  
Legolas flexed his palms on it and tried to see if he could maybe push the window up or down, but it did not budge. There were no tracks indicating that it was even meant to open and Legolas slapped a hand against it in frustration. He went back to his pacing.  
  
There was a small sound at his door. Legolas stopped in his tracks and watched from the other side of the room, not wishing to go any closer to the door until he knew what was going on. The door was pulled open effortlessly and the dark-haired elf lord stepped inside. He smiled brightly at Legolas.  
  
"Are we having a good time?" he asked.  
  
Legolas did not bother to answer. He noticed the items the elf lord held in his hands immediately. The elf lord had a crystal glass with water and a small plate that held bread and small amounts of fruits. Legolas held himself still and waited to see what would happen.  
  
The elf lord looked about the room absently and sighed to himself. "Not much to do here," he commented softly. Then he turned his dark eyes back to Legolas. He held the plate and the cup high, "Would you like something to eat?"  
  
Legolas' jaw twitched at the words but he remained still. He knew that the elf lord was not particularly kind towards him. There was a catch somewhere, there had to be.  
  
The elf lord was watching Legolas carefully. He cocked his head to one side. "No? You are not hungry? I had thought that you would be." He let his sentence hanging and smiled at Legolas.  
  
Legolas grit his teeth. He knew what the elf lord was doing, but he was very hungry. "I would not turn down the food and drink," Legolas chose his words carefully, hoping that it did not sound like he was playing right into the elf's hands and begging.  
  
The elf lord nodded solemnly. "As I suspected. Here you are then." The elf lord put the plate and glass down on the small end table that was closest to the door and stepped away from it. He stood and crossed his arms, waiting.  
  
As much as Legolas wanted the food he still kept himself in his position. For some reason he did not have any desire to have the elf lord watch him eat. Long moments stretched between the two and when it became clear that the elf lord was not leaving until Legolas ate something Legolas slowly took a step forward. He walked very carefully, feeling as though he was in the woods trying to avoid the stalking of another predator.  
  
With his eyes locked on the elf lord the entire time, Legolas reached the small table and picked up the cup. He raised it to his lips and took a small sip. The water was fresh and cold and he wanted to gulp it down in one swallow, but Legolas forced his arm to lower and he stood holding the glass, still watching the elf lord. Nothing happened.  
  
The elf lord remained where he was with a smile on his face. He nodded once and then turned to leave. "By the way," he said as he stepped past Legolas to the door, "my men came back from Mirkwood today. They had a lot of interesting things to tell me."  
  
A sinking feeling suddenly overwhelmed Legolas and he hastily put down the glass. "What do you mean?" he called out right as the elf lord was pulling the door open to let himself out.  
  
The elf lord paused and turned his head over his shoulder to look back at Legolas. He took in Legolas' anxious expression and smirked slightly. "I only mean that I had sent a few of my men out to tell your father some news and take notes on what was happening. As you know Mirkwood is in trouble."  
  
Legolas had a flash back to his dream of the spiders attacking his father. He couldn't shake it off. "Is my father well?" Legolas asked quickly, stopping to think after he had blurted the question.  
  
The elf lord shrugged. "I have not talked to my men fully yet, they just now got back. Rest well." With that the elf lord quickly turned and exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it.  
  
Legolas was left shaking with repressed emotion. That was why the elf lord had come to see him, only to taunt him with as little knowledge as possible. At least my father knows I am here now, Legolas thought to himself, but then stopped. The elf lord had not exactly said that his men had told Thranduil that Legolas was here. Legolas did not think that the elf lord would have gone through all of this if it were a simple ransom he was after. Legolas told himself not to underestimate the elf lord. One thing became clear to Legolas, he had to get out of this place and to his father. But he would focus on that later, right now he had to eat. 


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Nope, still not Tolkien and still receiving absolutely no money, so no need to sue, really.  
  
Chapter 16  
  
King Thranduil had been holding a small counsel with a few of his top advisors when there was the sounds of a commotion outside of the hall. The elves stopped their conference and turned expectantly. Presently, the door was opened and two of the guards that stood at the entrances of Mirkwood came in with a strange elf.  
  
One of the guards turned on the strange elf before anything could be said. "I told you to wait outside," he said impatiently.  
  
"I have to speak to your Lord Thranduil," the strange elf said coolly. He straightened and made his stance strong, clearly stating that he was not going anywhere until he said what he had come to say.  
  
The two guards turned on the strange elf and things might have gone ill if Thranduil had not spoken.  
  
"Peace," he called out, striding to the trio. His advisors followed silently, flanking their king. The guards looked over at Thranduil and then bowed to him before moving a bit to the side. They kept their spears out and at the ready and positioned themselves so that one was on either side of the strange elf should he try anything.  
  
Thranduil approached the strange elf with a small mixture of confusion. The elf neither bowed or averted his gaze, which was considered respectful, and only stared brazenly at the elf king. A small measure of pride washed through Thranduil but he pushed it aside. He wanted to know why this elf had come.  
  
Thranduil stopped before the elf and looked at him closely. "Where do you hail from?" the elven king finally asked. The elf was dark in coloring but did not look familiar.  
  
"I come from Imladris bearing a message," the elf said after a beat. Thranduil looked skeptical for he knew the elves of Rivendell fairly well and he did not look particularly like them even if he did share the coloring. "I have word of your son," the elf continued.  
  
All skepticism and other thoughts flew from Thranduil when he heard this. A flash of hope swept through him and his face lit up. "Legolas? Is he well? Where is he?"  
  
The elf held up a hand to stave off Thranduil's questions and then spoke rapidly. "Your son has been dwelling in Rivendell for the better part of the week. He arrived after being pursued by a band of renegade elves that slew his company. He says that he wishes for an envoy to be sent to Rivendell so that he may be escorted back home in full protection as the renegade band is still abroad and specifically aiming for your son."  
  
Thranduil was nodding rapidly, "Of course, I will send one with you immediately so that you may be able to return safely home." Thranduil turned to send out one of his advisors as a runner to get the envoy established as soon as possible but the elf stopped him.  
  
"That will not be necessary, lord," he said, "for I have come with my own company and we shall be safe enough. However we need to make a run to Lothlorien for Lord Elrond in order to inform Galadriel and Celeborn about the renegade elves as well."  
  
The elven king had turned back to the elf and he gave a short nod. "Do not let me delay you any longer than necessary in your errand. You may leave as soon as you have want to, but please let us provide you with provisions first."  
  
The elf was already beginning to back up. "It is not necessary lord, we have plenty provisions and desire no rest. We only wish to finish our errand and return home as quickly as possible."  
  
"Go then and may Elbereth protect you," Thranduil finished and bowed slightly to the elf. The elf did not return the bow and only turned abruptly to exit the room. The guards held the door open for him and Thranduil glimpsed three other elves with his same coloring waiting for him outside. Then the doors closed and Thranduil thought no more of them.  
  
He turned to the elf closest to him. "Elderein, quickly, run out and gather twenty of my warriors. Tell the stable hands to prepare horses and provisions for them. Send them off as quickly as possible to Rivendell."  
  
Elderein spoke up hesitantly, "My lord, do you not think this a little strange?"  
  
Thranduil stopped in his hasty planning. "What do you mean?"  
  
Elderein gestured to the now empty door. "That elf that just came in, he was unlike those in Rivendell."  
  
"He did not show respect or indicated knowledge of our ways," spoke up another elf gathered around Thranduil.  
  
Thranduil frowned. "He was in haste," he said slowly, "and he came bearing news of my son. I knew that he was still alive and well."  
  
"He did not look to be of the house of Elrond Half-elven," Elderein spoke up again with frustration.  
  
Thranduil did not have any patience. "He was a simple runner, he does not have to be of the house of Elrond to live in Imladris. Now please do not argue with my judgement and do as I say." Elderein set his mouth in a tight line and gave a small bow to Thranduil before walking out the doors. Thranduil watched him go and then turned to another elf, the head of his army at present.  
  
"Hildor, I want you to form a small contingent separate from the envoy, at least forty strong. Tell them that they are to go out and search for this renegade band. I want the renegades brought here for questioning as to why they are targeting Legolas and who lords over them. If they show resistance do not hesitate to slay them." Hildor bowed low and then turned to walk out of the hall.  
  
That left Thranduil with three of his advisors. Thranduil waved them away. "I do not wish to speak about the conditions of the woods anymore. I will be in my chambers if anybody needs me." Thranduil then exited the room.  
  
The four dark-haired elves rode swiftly out of Mirkwood and then turned in the direction of Lothlorien. Once they were out of sight from the keenest of eyes, they checked their horses and turned in the correct way of their destination.  
  
"Did the king believe you?" one of them asked the one in the lead.  
  
The elf nodded curtly. "He was so happy to hear about his son that his suspicions left him." There was a pause and then he asked, "Did you scout the borders of their woods?"  
  
The elf on his left spoke up. "There is much turmoil in the deep of the woods and it is barely being held at bay. It will take very little to encourage the darkness to once again cover all of Mirkwood."  
  
"Very good," the elf in the lead commented and then no more was said as they raced back to their own lord.  
  
Personal Notes: Arbariel- you're hilarious, I love your reviews, they always brighten my day  
  
Elentari Manwe- And the award goes to.(but shhhhh, don't tell anybody!) :)  
  
Aredhel Ereinionchil- First runner-up award goes to you, great reasoning skills  
  
LegolasLover2003 and Lady of Legolas- hang in there, the confusion will pass!  
  
Nilmandra- award for suspense huh? Cool. :)  
  
Gaile- you know how to make an author feel loved 


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: Ha-ha, I am now the triumvirate of speedy updates! Bow before the all-powerful! At least for this chapter. Anyways, need I say again I gain no profit whatsoever from this story? Right, cause I don't. Enough with the chit-chat, on to the story!  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Walking swiftly away from the room of the young elf prince, the dark elf lord went to meet with his returning messengers. He was eager to hear what they had to say and anxious to learn whether Thranduil had been overly suspicious or not. The elf lord reached his chambers and strode in, stopping before the four elves that already stood in the room. Apart from them stood Glorfindel and Eirien. The four elves bowed respectfully when they saw him, but the elf lord hardly acknowledged it.  
  
"What of your journey?" he asked simply.  
  
"I told the elf king what you wished to be said. He now believes Legolas to be held in Rivendell seeking refuge from a renegade band. He is sending out an envoy as soon as possible."  
  
The elf lord smiled. "How large an envoy?"  
  
The elf hesitated before answering. "I did not gather the number that he was to send. I wished to get out of there before any more suspicion could rise."  
  
The elf lord's smile faded. He narrowed his dark eyes, "Thranduil is suspicious then?"  
  
Again the elf hesitated. "He was at first, but as soon as he heard I had information on his son it seemed to leave him. However I believe that his advisors were suspicious as well."  
  
"You spoke to Thranduil when he was surrounded by his advisors," the elf lord asked in a low voice. The elf squirmed under his piercing gaze but did not answer. Sighing, the elf lord turned his attention to the three other elves. "And what of the borders, the forests?"  
  
"The forests are as you said, it is all the Mirkwood elves can do to keep it from falling completely. There are guards posted at the gates, but not a large number."  
  
The elf lord nodded. "Very well, and their only stronghold is in the North, correct?" The four elves nodded. The elf lord was silent for a moment, deep in thought. He looked up after a moment, "You can go now," he told the elves. They gave another small bow and then quickly filed out of the room, small signs of relief written on their faces. They knew it was often a bad thing to bring news to their lord that was not to his liking and they had been unsure of how he would respond to their reports.  
  
"Lord Lomion," Glorfindel spoke up from where he stood on the other side of the room. The dark elf lord turned his gaze towards him. "What is to become of the young prince now?"  
  
The elf lord waved his hand as if it was an unimportant question. "I will still use him as I previously planned. His welfare is not for your concern," he gave Glorfindel a piercing look. Glorfindel stood placidly, his eyes thoughtful.  
  
"Why do we not just send the prince to Rivendell?" spoke up Eirien. "It will save me a lot of trouble in the end."  
  
"Because I will not have Lord Elrond know of what is happening until we have secured Mirkwood. I have no need nor desire to associate any more with the Noldor than necessary."  
  
"Why not ask for their assistance?" Glorfindel asked in turn. "It would be easier to save Mirkwood with a larger force."  
  
The elf lord paused for a beat before answering. "We do not need any help, that is what the prince is for. I assure you my lord Glorfindel, Mirkwood will be turned over with ease."  
  
Glorfindel nodded and then did a small bow. "Please excuse me, I have personal matters to attend to." The elf lord gave a nod and Glorfindel walked gracefully past him and out of the doors.  
  
Eirien and the elf lord were left alone. "Are his thoughts troubled?" Eirien asked when the doors were fully closed again.  
  
Lomion shook his head. "His thoughts are purely noble and virtuous. If nothing else he remembers his heroic virtues."  
  
"Does he recall much more?" Eirien asked carefully.  
  
"No. He does not like to dwell on the songs of his praise. He concentrates on his next virtuous quest, the saviour of Greenwood the Great." His lips twisted up into a smile as he fell silent and his thoughts overtook him.  
  
Eirien looked down to the floor. "My lord," she said hesitantly, drawing his attention back to her, "the dreams will no longer work."  
  
Lomion gave her a sharp glance. "You were careless?" he accused. Eirien knew he needed no confirmation so she did her best to justify herself.  
  
"I thought he would be too weak to wake up. The young prince gets edgier every day. He is no longer in a vulnerable state."  
  
The elf lord stared at Eirien for a moment and Eirien was forced to drop her gaze again. Like the elves before, she knew it was not a good idea to give him news that would anger him. After a terrible beat, Lomion shrugged.  
  
"It matters not," he said. Eirien looked up hopefully. "He thinks of himself as a true prince and has proven that he cannot be swayed from his father. That too we can use to our advantage. Do not worry, all is still well."  
  
Eirien smiled widely. She had been dreading telling him of the failed dream experience. "Leave me now," the elf lord said to her, "I have to see to the final preparations."  
  
Eirien bobbed low in a hasty curtsy and walked quickly out of the room.  
  
  
  
Legolas was now becoming used to a new routine of sorts. He remained in a state of isolation with no other elf to be seen or heard near his room. A small plate of food was given to him in the evenings and that was the most interaction he had. Despite the isolation, Legolas had to admit that it was better than what had been happening to him before. He preferred the smaller rations of food over facing the hostility of the strange elves.  
  
Two slow days had passed since after the elf lord had come in to tell him that he had had messengers sent to his father. He almost hoped that the elf lord would come into his room to terrorize him about something so that Legolas could at least try to get some more information out of him about his father. But no such thing happened.  
  
Legolas did not see anymore of the she-elf either, and for that he was particularly glad. His food was brought by a different male elf every evening that would refuse to even look at Legolas. He also had no more dreams of the she-elf and Mirkwood.  
  
Despite the small respites that he was grateful for, Legolas found himself continually on edge. The lack of attention to himself made him think that there was something on a more grand scale going on. He had the feeling that the strange elves were preparing for something, and he could only hope that it did not involve himself.  
  
The young elf prince spent most of his time studying and learning every inch of his confinement. He now knew every nook in the room. His study had first started with the hopes that he would find some weak spot and thus be able to free himself, but that proved to be futile. Along with the strange metal door, he came to the conclusion that the walls too had to be the same kind of metal plastered over. And various more experiments with the window had finally taught him to give up all hope on that being a possibility. As much as he hated to admit it, all Legolas could do now was sit and wait to see what would happen. He hardly felt that it was the elves' intention to merely keep him a captive forever in this room.  
  
All signs of physical abuse had long since left him and Legolas felt that he had regained the majority of his strength. The only thing keeping him down now was the small rations of food, but he knew he could quickly adjust to that. As a hunter and a warrior, his body automatically adjusted to make the most out of any quantity of food. This too puzzled Legolas. He had assumed in the beginning that he was to be kept a prisoner and in a weakened state. Now he had been untouched for up to six days. Yet his suspicions were too high to let this knowledge comfort him. It felt like the calm before the storm. One that he had no idea how long it would last.  
  
Personal Notes: Lyn Myn-mae- don't hate me because I'm beautiful, oh wait, nevermind (retracts invalid statement)  
  
Legolas' Wife- will we see more elf torture? Oh come now, who do you take me for? Of course!  
  
Prophecy- okay, everything's okay, I gave you more, everybody's happy right?  
  
Iarejedi- too kind, too kind  
  
Elentari Manwe- I want a Legolas plushie too!  
  
Brittney- keeping people hanging off the edge of their seats? Moi? he-he  
  
Aredhel Ereinionchil- please don't die, I assure you more is on the way!  
  
Arbariel- I'd like to thank all the little people, the hobbits, for my golden-globe award, and oh yeah, don't totally die until the story's over at least!  
  
Nilmandra- well that's two chapters where he didn't get beat up now, I think I'm losing my touch 


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: What is this? Another timely update? What in Middle-earth is going on? Yeah well, I can't seem to stop writing this story now, the plot has completely run away with me, so much so that I can't even work on my other stories, but I'm sure you do not care about any of that. So on with the story, I continue to love you all for your reviews, and worry not, our poor elf is not so easily off the hook yet! And oh yeah, aint Tolkien, yadda yadda.  
  
Chapter 18  
  
Legolas abruptly woke from his light sleep. He had been expecting something to happen for a few days now, so he no longer allowed himself the luxury of a deep sleep. The metal door to his room was being carefully pulled open and Legolas tensed his muscles while he remained lying down in the bed. His foe would not know until too late that Legolas was awake and ready.  
  
A figure slipped through the door and it closed again, leaving the room in it's many shades of darkness. Legolas judged it to be at least four hours until the sun rose, a little past the middle of the night. Was it the she-elf again? Had she finally returned to poison his dreams again? Legolas would not put it past her to try again.  
  
The shadowy figure started to come towards the still bed. Even with his keen eyesight Legolas could not make out exactly who it was, but his suspicions ruled in favor of Eirien.  
  
The elf was now a few feet away from the bed. Legolas would let her come no further. Uncoiling his muscles, Legolas sprang off of the bed at his foe. As swift and unexpected as his actions were, a hand came out to stop Legolas before Legolas could reach his foe. The hand closed around Legolas' tunic at the chest and Legolas found himself falling to the floor in surprise. His lower body hit the ground, but the elf kept the grip on his tunic and held the upper part of his body aloft.  
  
Legolas quickly gathered his legs underneath him and was readying himself to leap up and pull away when a soft voice stopped him.  
  
"Peace young prince," the elf whispered, "I mean you no harm." It was Glorfindel.  
  
Legolas stilled himself and Glorfindel released his hold when he felt Legolas' body go limp. Legolas stood slowly. Now that the identity had been revealed, he could easily make out the pale hair and bright eyes of the elf lord.  
  
The two elves regarded each other for a moment silently. Legolas was not wholly sure of what to think about Glorfindel. He seemed to be on the side of the dark elf lord, and that meant he was no friend to Legolas or even his father. "Have you discovered the truth yet?" Legolas finally asked softly, remembering their last conversation.  
  
Glorfindel turned his face towards the door for a second before regarding Legolas again. "Lord Lomion is occupied now, he is not aware of my intentions at the moment. I have known since the beginning the truth of what has been happening only it was not my place at the moment to do anything about it. Lomion is very sharp to deception, it was all I could do to get this close to him."  
  
Legolas was taken aback by the sudden burst of information. He had not expected any of this. Trying to regroup, Legolas tentatively asked, "Why did you come to me?"  
  
"To try to explain to you young prince. I know the anxiety caused by your being left in the dark. I am not an ally for Lord Lomion, but it is imperative that he continues to think so. Because of this I cannot tell you much more for you are young and he will see right through you. It worries me that I have already told you too much but as I said before his mind is occupied. I do not think he will even come to see you again before we move out."  
  
Legolas tried to get a handle on where this conversation was going. "Before we move out where?"  
  
Glorfindel did not even hesitate in his answer, "To Mirkwood, you know that as well as I do. I have not been able to receive the information from him as to what he is planning on doing with you, but worry not, you will not be alone. I need you to be strong for the sake of your own father for that is the path on which I see Lomion using you."  
  
Glorfindel's attention was directed towards the door once again. "I must go now," he told a bewildered Legolas, "before any suspicions rise."  
  
The suddenness of Glorfindel's departure brought Legolas to his senses. "Wait, who are these elves?"  
  
Glorfindel turned to speak to Legolas directly. He spoke rapidly. "They are the Moriquendi, more specifically the Avari. They are a mix of the races but the majority is Noldor and it is their purpose that binds them together."  
  
"And their elf lord?" Legolas held onto Glorfindel's arm as the elf lord tried to leave. "Who is he? The name Lomion means nothing to me."  
  
"That is his Quenya name," Glorfindel gently broke free of Legolas' grip and stepped away from him a bit. He dropped his voice to a mere whisper, "You would better recognize him by the name of Maeglin."  
  
Glorfindel turned and swiftly exited the room and Legolas was too overwhelmed by the revelation of the elf lord to even think about trying to stop him to get more information. Maeglin? That was impossible. The utterance of the name was enough to bring the memory of the old legends flooding back to Legolas. He knew the name Maeglin well enough, for it was often uttered in the same breath as that of Glorfindel as they were both in the song concerning the fall of Gondolin. But they were both in it for different reasons.  
  
Legolas sat down limply on his bed and went over the legend of the fall of Gondolin in his head. Maeglin had been a betrayer of his own people. He had revealed the location of the stronghold of Gondolin to Morgoth, and Morgoth had attacked with every intention of wiping out the strongest elven-hold in Middle-Earth at the time. The promised reward to Maeglin had been lordship over Gondolin once it was taken over.  
  
However a combination of heroes had fought to save Gondolin, least of all being Glorfindel. Glorfindel himself had fought a balrog on the top of Cirith Thoronath and had fallen with his enemy to his death. It was only through the Halls of Mandos that the great Glorfindel had been able to return to Middle-Earth.  
  
Maeglin had died as well. His greed had made him too eager and he had been cast down into the flames below Amon Gwareth. He had died, and it was often said that only the pure of heart were able to return to Middle- Earth with the grace of Mandos. The fact that Maeglin was here now went against everything that Legolas had been told since he was a very young elf.  
  
Legolas' thoughts shifted and he went over the name of the elves that Glorfindel had told him. The Avari. Avari meant the refusers, or the unwilling. Refusers of what? For what seemed like the millionth time since Legolas had been brought here he wished he had paid more attention when learning about elvish history. He had always been much more eager to go out and hone his fighting skills with archery lessons.  
  
Glorfindel had also mentioned Moriquendi, but that had several meanings. It was a name often reserved for elves who had not yet gone west, were not of the Eldar, or to mean dark elves. Upon this thought, Legolas had a flash of an image when he had first been led into the dining room and the table had been surrounded by elves all with dark features. He remembered thinking that his own light features were a severe contrast to the rest of the elves, a mockery of the different intentions they had between each other.  
  
Legolas had to mentally stop to take a break. His mind was racing with thoughts now, trying frantically to put all the pieces together. Legolas stood off of the bed and started to pace slowly around the room, calming himself down so that he could think straight. He unconsciously slipped into what was sometimes referred to as 'warrior mode', quickly gathering and categorizing all information that was useful to him as he was at the moment. Just like a warrior would do when planning out an attack he stripped everything he knew to its bare essentials.  
  
First off, these Avari were obviously not friend to Legolas or his own people. They wanted something with Mirkwood and were planning to use Legolas in order to gain their objective. Second, Glorfindel played some sort of role in their plan, but he was not on their side. Legolas stopped in his simple ordering of information. The thought of Glorfindel threw a hitch into the whole thing.  
  
If what was said in the fall of Gondolin was completely true, than Glorfindel was the last person that Maeglin would want to use as an ally. He was technically the single remaining elf from Gondolin as all others had either perished or moved into the west. Why would Maeglin want to befriend one that he had betrayed?  
  
The obvious solution came to Legolas. It was strictly for matters of revenge. Maeglin was planning on exploiting Glorfindel for his power and would then in all likelihood betray him again.  
  
From a warrior stand-point, this made no sense to Legolas. Practically the first thing any warrior was taught that to be led by personal feelings of vengeance would almost certainly seal your fate. Then again, there was also no obvious reason to Legolas as to why Maeglin would even want to bother with Mirkwood.  
  
Legolas shook his head. Even though he now had a lot of information he still felt as though he was getting nowhere. Legolas rerouted his thoughts and decided on concentrating on what he still did not know.  
  
The most glaring items of information that he was missing were consequently the most important to himself. He did not know what the Avari wanted with Mirkwood or himself. He did not know how Maeglin was here and he did not know why Glorfindel was intent on being so close to Maeglin when he knew the truth of it all along. It seemed to Legolas that Glorfindel was willingly putting himself in a very dangerous position.  
  
Legolas suddenly stopped himself in his pacing. All of his thoughts shattered and he twisted around to stare at the door. He had only now realized something. He had not heard Glorfindel lock the door when he had left. 


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: Hello again all my lovely readers! I just want to thank you guys so much for all the wonderful reviews, I've never gotten so much response about a story before. And I will assure you that your hilarious reviews do provoke me to write faster. So thanks again to you all and I love you so much!  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Legolas was at the door in a matter of seconds. He was hoping that it had not merely been his distracted state that had missed the sound of the lock but that Glorfindel had indeed not locked the door. Trying desperately to calm his excitement Legolas carefully grabbed onto the handle of the heavy door. He knew from watching others that if opened too fast and without caution caused the metal to grate against the stone walls and make noise. Ever so carefully, Legolas pulled on the door with a fraction of his strength.  
  
It didn't move.  
  
Legolas frowned. Not quite willing to give up, he exerted a little more pressure as he pulled on it. It still did not move.  
  
Gritting his teeth in frustration Legolas' hopes were beginning to die and he thought that maybe it had been locked. He gave it one last pull, more in defiance rather than in trying to open it, and his heart seemed to stop for a minute when the door moved but created a scratching sound. Legolas froze, wildly hoping that nobody was anywhere nearby in the hallway.  
  
Legolas held the door at where it was and waited. He only had a tiny slit opened, but he feared going any more lest it alert someone. After a few moments passed and nothing happened, Legolas carefully started to roll his weight back on his feet and bring the door open a few inches. This time he managed to do so without a sound and when it was open enough so that he could clearly see through a small gap he stopped. Pausing his breath so that it would not make any noise, Legolas pressed his ear to the gap and strained his hearing to take in the sounds of elvish footfalls in at least the immediate area of the hallway. There was nothing.  
  
Feeling slightly more confident, Legolas finished pulling his door open the rest of the way and slipped through it. He felt horribly exposed as soon as he had left the confines of his room and flattened himself against the wall. There was very little light in the long hallway, provided from small torches lit with quite a distance between them. They were not meant to provide a lot of light and Legolas was momentarily grateful for it. He would be aware of another coming and be able to slip back into his room before they ever saw him.  
  
Legolas slowly realized that he had not thought beyond getting out of his room. He had no plan of action, no idea of where to go. He was not even sure if he should try to escape entirely or not. He had no idea where any of the entrances were. And even if he did somehow make it out of the structure, what then? What little forest he could see through his window told him that it was an area completely foreign to him. He would end up wandering and lost within it, waiting to be either recaptured or subjected to the creatures in the forest without any weapons.  
  
Deciding that he at least do something, Legolas eased up off of the wall and started walking down to his right. He made a mental note to painstakingly track where he was going so that he would be able to make it back to his room without being caught.  
  
The hallway was straight for a while and Legolas glided soundlessly, his senses keyed to detect even a hint of another elf coming. A little ways down a wall ornament caught his eye. It was a long knife pinned beneath an elaborate painting. Legolas did not even heed the painting and without a second thought lifted the knife. He tucked it into a sleeve of his tunic, holding the hilt hidden in his hand. Feeling immensely better now that he had something to protect himself with, Legolas picked up his pace.  
  
Legolas had just started venturing down a small corridor to his left when his sharp ears picked up the sound of voices. Immediately Legolas withdrew farther into the corridor and pressed himself against the wall at what seemed like the darkest point. He then stilled himself and extended his hearing. His first thought had been that the voices were coming from down the main hallway, the one he had just been in. But as he listened it became clear that they were instead coming from the corridor he had turned into. Legolas turned his head to the side and strained his eyes to see if anything was coming.  
  
He could not see anything and the voices were not getting any louder. That meant they had to be in one of the rooms, and from what Legolas could tell it was a few voices. At the very least four different people. A meeting of some sort?  
  
Legolas began to edge his way down the hall towards the voices. He could soon make the thin line of light edged around one of the heavy doors. That was the room that the elves were in, but who was it and what were they talking about?  
  
Legolas started to think that perhaps he should quite while he was ahead, go back to his room before these elves came out and found him. But even as his mind thought rationally his feet continued to move toward the lit room. Perhaps he still had the foolishness of youth in him, even if he was well past 500 years. Edging as close as he dared to the door and blending into the shadows Legolas listened quietly.  
  
A muffled voice came through the door. "But will not Elrond be alerted too soon and then Thranduil's envoy sent back with tales of suspicion and lies?"  
  
"By the time the envoy is sent back by Elrond to Mirkwood we will have already moved in. It will be at least five more days until the envoy even reaches Rivendell, and then almost two weeks before being able to come back to Mirkwood. We have plenty of time without having to worry about interference." Legolas was not wholly sure, but he felt that the last voice was that of the elf lord, Maeglin.  
  
"I still do not understand why you would want to even alert Elrond as to what is happening," an angry-sounding voice started. "Now we will have to deal with the Noldor and the Silvan. It does not seem like a wise decision to me."  
  
"Which is why you will never be the head of anything," Maeglin answered dryly. "Thranduil's attention is now fixed on Rivendell and on the possibility of a threat from a roaming renegade band. We will be the last thing he ever suspects. And I believe that you give Lord Elrond too much credit, he is a descendant of Tuor after all."  
  
Legolas was almost holding his breath as he listened. His eyes widened when he heard them speaking of Mirkwood. He was not entirely sure how Rivendell tied into everything, but obviously there had been some type of lie told to his father by the messengers the elf lord had taunted Legolas with earlier.  
  
As much as Legolas wanted to stay to discover more information, the voices inside of the room had quieted, which probably meant that their meeting was drawing to a close. Legolas could only imagine what would happen if he was caught eavesdropping in the hallway. He was pretty sure it would not be a pleasant ordeal for himself.  
  
Legolas eased up out of the crouch he had been in and began to walk silently back to the main hallway. He paused once before stepping out of the corridor and listened carefully. Nobody was around.  
  
Walking more quickly than he had before, Legolas began to make his way back to his room. He was not hesitant in his path as he had tried to stay as straight as possible, taking only a few turns. Legolas retraced his steps with ease.  
  
Perhaps it was because of his growing confidence in his own daring that made Legolas less cautious. Whatever the reason, Legolas was surprised when he turned the last corner he had taken and had to stop lest he run into a figure coming down the hall from the other direction. It was Eirien.  
  
Her head snapped up from where she had been idly watching the floor when she heard Legolas brake suddenly in front of her. She paused and regarded him and Legolas at least had the small amount of satisfaction that she seemed just as surprised as he. Both of them remained paralyzed in each others' gaze until realization sank in. Then she moved.  
  
Eirien lunged towards Legolas. Legolas quickly side-stepped and grabbed onto her arm that had been outstretched in front of her. He swung his body around, bringing her with it, and effectively slammed her against a wall. Legolas winced slightly at the loud sound the contact made and resolved to not try something like that again lest he wanted to alert others and be outnumbered five to one.  
  
Yet Eirien did not share his desire for silence. She let out a cry as she brought up a knee and slammed it into Legolas' mid-section. Legolas doubled over but did not lose his grip and straightened up to shove her back when she tried to push off of the wall. She let out another cry and Legolas clamped a hand over her mouth. Understanding flashed through her eyes and with more force than Legolas anticipated she pushed off of the wall with all of her weight and slammed into Legolas. Legolas was pushed backwards and left fighting for his footing. Eirien tore out of his grip and pushed hard as she spun away from him. Legolas started to go down but he reached out and caught her ankle as he did so. They both crashed down to the ground.  
  
Legolas pulled himself to his knees and launched himself at the she- elf as she tried to scramble away. He caught her by the shoulders and put a hand over her mouth again as she drew in a deep breath, presumably to call out and alert some of her kinsmen. For the moment Legolas had her pinned and silent, but now what? He could not possibly let her go, she would tell Maeglin that he had freed himself from his room. Legolas could only assume Maeglin would not be too happy with the information and come to pay him a visit.  
  
After a small pause, Legolas decided that laying in the hallway was also not the wisest course for himself. It would only be a matter of time before another came along. Without thinking what he would do once he got her there, Legolas slowly stood, pulling Eirien up with him. He kept his hand over her mouth and his other arm locked tightly around her waist while pinning her own arms. He began to drag her backwards towards his room.  
  
Eirien was not quite so willing. Though she did not struggle half as much as Legolas anticipated, she dug in her heels and made it as hard as possible for Legolas. He kept a watchful eye on her legs as he expected her to kick out viciously at him, but no such blow came. Legolas was starting to become confused, but he decided not to let her odd behaviour bother him at the moment. Instead he focused on getting her into the confines of his room.  
  
Once he had managed to pull her inside he pushed her in with perhaps more force than was necessary and quickly pulled the door closed. He knew it was not locked, that could only happen from the outside, but it was better than being out in the large hallway.  
  
Legolas stood with his back to the door and regarded the she-elf. She stood before him, her arms crossed, her expression hardly amused. She seemed to be waiting to see what Legolas would do, but he himself did not even know. He had been working on pure adrenaline and the desire to get out of the open, he had no plans with which to interrogate her.  
  
The moments dragged between them and it seemed they would stay like this for the remainder of the night when Legolas finally spoke. He was not sure why he did it, and the question came unbidden from him, but he heard himself ask it all the same. "Why did you help me before?"  
  
The she-elf's eyes momentarily widened, as if that had been the last thing she had expected, but the expression was fleeting and her eyes once again held an arrogant look. "And when did I help you?"  
  
"The night I was whipped," Legolas continued though he had no idea why, "you brought me back here when I knew you were not supposed to."  
  
"You know quite a lot then," Eirien muttered sarcastically before sighing and tossing her head. "If you must know I wanted a chance at your dreams while you were weak, that is all."  
  
Legolas remembered her failed attempt but chose not to say anything over it. He also remembered when he had tried to use her for information and knew that he would get absolutely nowhere with her if he tried again this time. He was at a loss again, not knowing what to do or say.  
  
"Can I go now?" the she-elf's impatient question cut into his thoughts.  
  
"Will you tell your lord?" he asked.  
  
"Of course," was her immediate reply.  
  
"Then you cannot," Legolas told her dryly. Legolas did not necessarily hold the fear of the elf lord for himself, he knew he had some sort of role to play in his plans and he would not actually kill him before the time came. He was worried that if the elf lord were to see him then Legolas would somehow tip him off to Glorfindel. The name Maeglin meant 'sharp glance' and Glorfindel had mentioned that Maeglin would be able to see right through Legolas. Legolas was not entirely sure what that meant, but he did not want to risk confronting the elf lord and exposing Glorfindel. He could not let Eirien report to him.  
  
Eirien threw her hands in the air, "Then what are you planning? You cannot possibly keep me hidden in here. I assure you I would never be that complying."  
  
Legolas said nothing. He agreed with her, but would never let her know that. He needed to do something, and fast. Absently, he became aware of the knife he still held hidden in his hand. He had forgotten about it. A new thought came to him and he tested it in his mind. He could kill her and hide the body, then she would not be able to run off to her lord. Her death would raise some suspicions, sure, but Legolas thought he could probably go unsuspected since Maeglin was so confident in holding Legolas in an impenetrable cell.  
  
But even as he thought the idea, his very core shuddered at the prospect. He was no weak elf, he was a trained warrior and had killed many times in battle. But that was in battle, most of the time with goblins or even spiders. He had never killed another elf, it was not common for elves to even fight amongst their own kind, and the prospect of killing a female was still unfathomable to him. Granted, this was no normal she-elf and could hardly be counted as a female, but he still could not bring himself to kill her. Killing another elf, especially a female, was not yet an evil he wished to cross over to.  
  
Eirien watched silently as the prince in front of her appeared to struggle inwardly with himself. She was slightly puzzled. It had not escaped her notice that he had a knife, yet he had not even drawn it forth. If she had had any weapons she would have drawn them on the spot. There was no love lost between them, she hated him and his kind for what they had done to the forest and he hated her just as much. It was only logical to her that he attempt to destroy his enemies.  
  
She was puzzled still further when Legolas let out a sigh and dropped down to the floor into a comfortable sitting position. He casually leaned against the door and simply stared up at her. Legolas had decided that he would simply wait it out until a solution presented it to himself. He was aware to the possibility that the she-elf might put up a fight soon in order to get out and he would do the best he could to stop her, but he knew in the end she would get out. And since he did not exactly feel like politely holding the door open for her, the only thing left to do was merely wait, buy Glorfindel as much time as was possible.  
  
The she-elf continued to stand, staring down as the elf prince watched her from his seat. It was not long before she found his tireless gaze unnerving and she began to look idly about the room. She was not about to spend all night here, but she felt unsure of what to do. Her first thought when he had dragged her in here was that it would take her all but ten minutes to fight her way out. But his unagressive behaviour was unsettling and it made her think he knew something she did not. Well then, she could play his game as well. Without turning her head to glance behind her, Eirien lowered herself onto the bed and crossed her legs in front of her, mimicking the style in which Legolas sat. Then she too waited. 


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Hello once again!!! Like always, I love you guys soooo much!!!! So, to show my affection, I have given you another speedy update! Aint I nice? Alright then, I'll just let you all know now that I hope I continue to surprise you with my little "plot twists". And what the hell is up with Eirien and Legolas? Hmmm, I haven't the faintest idea..(evil laughter). There also seems to be requests for more elf torture, so let's just say that he aint out of the woods yet! And oh yeah, no I'm not Tolkien yadda yadda, on with the story!!!  
  
Chapter 20  
  
"I will be found eventually," Eirien finally said, breaking the silence that had stretched to almost an hour. "My lord will be searching for me in the morning when I do not come to him and it will only be a matter of time before he thinks to look in here."  
  
Legolas only looked at her unimpressed. "I know," he stated simply.  
  
Eirien frowned, that was not the answer she wanted. "You will be punished much more severely than anything you have yet encountered," she warned.  
  
Legolas nodded thoughtfully, "In all likelihood, yes."  
  
Eirien suddenly leapt off of the bed, "Then just let me pass now. Save yourself the worry over your punishment and get it over with."  
  
Legolas did not move, "I worry not for myself."  
  
"You think only for yourself," Eirien spat out, "you and your father."  
  
Legolas finally rose out of his seated position. Anger started to stir within him, he severely disliked the way she often regarded to his father. Loyalty was a delicate issue with him.  
  
Eirien was slightly pleased when she saw him rise in anger. Finally he was starting to act in a way she could anticipate. She continued in goading him, "The elves are fading and your kind does nothing to help. Instead you let your forest fall and your people die. There is no more concern left in your hearts for Middle-Earth, as long as you still have the sea and the Grey Lands the actions here will not disturb you."  
  
The anger continued to grow within Legolas, but confusion also rose to meet it. This was not some trick from the she-elf, Legolas could tell from her voice that she meant and believed in what she said. There had been much talk over the forests of Mirkwood from these people and Legolas was finally beginning to understand. It had to do with the growing threat of the shadow within it that they were referring to, but this concern did not make sense when dealing with Maeglin. Legolas had always encountered a different tone whenever Maeglin had spoken to him earlier over helping to save Mirkwood. He had other intentions, Legolas was sure. A new thought finally struck Legolas, was Maeglin deceiving his own people as well? It certainly would not be the first time.  
  
"Why do you follow your lord?" Legolas suddenly asked just as Eirien looked as though she was getting ready to say something else.  
  
She paused to regard the question for a moment. Legolas pressed the advantage of her momentary confusion, "If you know who he is then you know that he cannot be trusted."  
  
Eirien's dark eyes flamed. Apparently loyalty was a delicate issue with her as well. "I trust him," she said, but Legolas detected the slightest quaver in her voice. He had struck a chord somewhere within her and he jumped on it.  
  
"He is known for betraying his people," Legolas said quietly, starting to press closer towards her, crowding her. "What makes you think this time will be any different?"  
  
Eirien stood her ground and held her chin up defiantly. Her words were hissed through her teeth, "He is not the same. He only wishes to restore Greenwood the Great and help our kind. He is not one to let the matters of Middle-Earth deteriorate past the point of any help."  
  
"No," Legolas stopped only inches from her, "he is not one to let the matters go. He wants an active part in it. You said it yourself before, what is the use of having a throne that does not even exist?"  
  
Her fist crashed into Legolas' jaw. It hurt, and his head was forced to the side from the impact, but it had hardly been unexpected. Legolas straightened up and caught her with a blow of his own. The she-elf swayed with the impact but she grit her teeth and launched herself straight at Legolas' mid-section. They collided and both tumbled down into a painful pile. The she-elf struggled but Legolas quickly rolled and pinned her down, straddling her and holding her arms down.  
  
Eirien was down but now yet beaten and she tore one of her arms out of his grasp. She clawed at his face and when Legolas raised a hand to protect himself she arched her back and threw her weight to the side. Legolas fell aside and was trying to gain his feet when the she-elf tackled him forcefully. Legolas was surprised when she went immediately for his left hand, gripping the hidden knife and yanking it away. He had little time to spend pondering on how she had known it was there before being forced to jerk to the right to avoid a downward slash from her with the knife.  
  
As much as Legolas tried to avoid it, the knife caught his forearm and ripped a line in his clothing as well as the skin beneath it. The wound burned as blood began to pour forth but Legolas paid no heed to it. He swept out with his legs, catching the she-elf from where she had raised herself onto her knees and knocking her to the side. She hit the floor hard and the knife bounced out of her grip. Legolas had it within a second and raised it uncertainly. He still could not bring himself to use it against her, it went against everything he stood for. He had a small flash from their very first fight when he had used a dagger on her, but that had been before he had known she was an elf and female.  
  
Despite his own moral conflicts, it was plain to Legolas that she had no qualms over using it so he instead threw it as hard as he could over to the far wall. The knife bit into the stone wall and imbedded the tip of itself into the wall. The wall was too strong to have the knife pass most of the way through as Legolas had hoped, but this way it was at least out of immediate reach and Legolas should be able to stop the she-elf before she got ahold of it again.  
  
Legolas was distracted from the knife when a forceful blow caught him across the chest. He fell back but instinctively rolled as Eirien advanced on him, stomping the floor hard where his head had been a moment before. Legolas sprang to his feet and caught her leg as she aimed a kick at his middle. Immediately Legolas twisted her foot, throwing her off-balance and back down to the floor. He did not advance on her and watched when she was back on her feet in no time, but she now hobbled uncertainly on one foot.  
  
A deep instinct he was beginning to resent caused him to step forward when he saw her standing unsteadily. Legolas stopped himself immediately, marveling momentarily at how gentlemanly instinct could very well get him killed, but he had gotten close enough. The she-elf threw all of her weight behind a blow aimed directly to the soft spot underneath his chin. She hit the mark accurately and Legolas' vision blurred dangerously as his head snapped back. He staggered for footing and it was in that time that he felt rather than saw the she-elf run past him. He heard the door being pulled open and then just as quickly be slammed shut once again. The sound of the lock was quite audible this time, but the thought seemed irrelevant to him at the time as his body gave out on him and the room went black.  
  
Legolas woke in a matter of minutes. The blow had not been enough to put him out for a significant amount of time, but he knew that his neck and jaw would be sore for quite some time.  
  
Legolas stood, cursing the she-elf and himself. He blamed her escape on the instincts that had been long instilled inside of him to be ever helpful to females of the species. He decided that if he did ever become king he would immediately get rid of the notion that males were supposed to protect females. Obviously they could do so themselves. Or so went the idle thoughts of a male's wounded pride.  
  
Legolas' attention was diverted from his chin when the wound in his arm flared. He glanced down, even in the dim lighting he could make out a very dark stain that had spread across most of his sleeve. The arm of the tunic now hung in tatters, exposing the torn flesh beneath it. Deciding it was no good anymore anyway, Legolas ripped off the whole of the sleeve and then wrapped it around his arm. Tying it off took some time as he was working one-handed, but he managed it after a short struggle.  
  
When he was done with that Legolas looked at of the small window. No light was filtering through the dense trees, but the atmosphere was not quite as oppressive. Morning would be here soon. And Legolas knew what would happen then. He would be getting a visit from Maeglin. He could only hope that he would not end up inadvertently betraying Glorfindel. Whatever Glorfindel was planning, Legolas was only sure that it would be shot as soon as his true intentions were revealed.  
  
Legolas knew that once all of this was over, he himself would most likely be dead. As soon as he filled out whatever role Maeglin had planned for him he would be expendable. Legolas was aware of this, and though it tore at his heart that he would never be able to enjoy the beauties of Middle-Earth during a leisurely time again, the only hope that guided him was that Mirkwood and its people would not fall into Maeglin's twisted hands. Glorfindel seemed to be the only hope for this, for it took an elf lord of great power to match another. Legolas was fairly certain that even his own father, as experienced and powerful as he was, would not be a match for Maeglin. No, Glorfindel was the only one, and the thought that Legolas would be the one to single-handedly destroy Glorfindel's cover was almost too much to bear. 


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Okay people, here I am yet again with another timely update. I noticed that a few of my wonderful readers did not particularly care for the last chapter, please just trust that I had my reasons and I did not intend to make Legolas appear weak, rather I wanted to portray him as honorable and above the notion of fighting his kin. Again, just trust me until the end, Legolas is my absolute favorite character and I would never butcher what Tolkien set up. And why do we love elf torture? I have pondered that myself as well and merely decided that it's one of those mysteries of nature, we're still normal, right? Oh, and I have also decided that we need to create our own line that makes Legolas plushies. They seem to be in popular demand and I sure as hell want one, so lets get a petition going! Come on, we can be entrepreneurs! Anyways, I think that's enough rambling and I only have the highest respect for Tolkien and earn nothing from this story except for my own twisted satisfaction, on with the story!  
  
Chapter 21  
  
Eirien stumbled through the maze of hallways, intent on making her way back to her own living quarters so that she may tend to her wounds. She did not mind the many bruises she knew she would have, but her ankle was another matter. She would have to bind it tightly and put on a mixture of herbs to keep the swelling at bay.  
  
As she limped, she heard somebody coming up behind her. She ignored it until she heard a voice say, "What happened to you, Eirien?"  
  
It was her lord and she stopped full in her tracks. She turned to him and bowed low. Maeglin waved away the formalities. "I asked what happened to you," he repeated.  
  
Eirien lowered her head. "A guard foolishly let the young prince out of his room," she started.  
  
She paused and looked up, the dark elf lord's eyes hardened. "Yet another problem I must see to," he muttered.  
  
He pivoted and started to move off down the hall. Eirien watched him take a few steps before her arm reached out as if on its own and she caught his elbow to stop him. "No, all is well. I took care of it. I punished the guard and our guest."  
  
Maeglin looked at her sharply and Eirien dropped her gaze respectfully. A small moment of silence passed and then the elf lord let out a breath. "As long as you took care of it," he said quietly. "Remember that there is to be a meeting tonight in the hall after the evening meal," he commented as he started to pass her by, "we will be discussing the final preparations. Do not be late." And then he was gone, turning down a separate corridor, opposite from the direction in which Legolas' room lie.  
  
Eirien's head swam. She had no idea why she had just done that. I just wanted to save him the trouble, she thought to herself, he has enough to think about and I did take care of it. She justified her actions in her mind, but something else tried to whisper past into her consciousness. Eirien crushed it down and would not let it through. Yet one small thought presented itself to her as she continued to make her painful way to her chambers. 'He saw that you were injured and did nothing to help,' a small voice in her mind told her. Eirien shook her head hard to clear the rebellious voice.  
  
He knows I can take care of myself, she thought back fiercely. I have never allowed anyone to see to me in the entirety of my life, I am not about to start now. But she could not shake the seed of doubt that had been plaguing her ever since her encounter with the elf prince. Damn him, was her last thought before she finally reached her room and went in.  
  
  
  
Legolas had been waiting anxiously all day. He had been unable to sit down and rest and he paced at a rate that made his earlier attempts at pacing seem languid. He held his breath every time he heard footsteps outside of his door, expecting Maeglin to come through the door. Yet each time the footsteps passed and the door remained firmly closed.  
  
It was not until the sun finally started to sink ruefully down under the horizon that a novel idea came to him. Perhaps Maeglin was not coming to see him after all. Maybe he had not taken any notice of the she-elf and she had decided not to bother him with it. As much as Legolas thought of the possibilities, he knew that the incident would not be so easily forgotten. Even if Maeglin were to not find out Legolas knew that Eirien would not be so forgiving. She would do the most that she could to punish him personally if no other action was taken against him.  
  
Gingerly, Legolas halted his pacing and lowered himself onto the bed. He sat completely still for a few moments before getting back up to his feet. He could not merely sit still and wait. The anxiety of not knowing what was to happen to him or even to Glorfindel and Mirkwood was tearing through him. He felt more vulnerable than he ever had in his life, and he was not pleased whenever he felt vulnerable.  
  
A small glint of light caught his eye from across the room. Legolas glanced over and then turned. He had forgotten about the knife, and he now dove eagerly for it. Having some type of weapon, no matter how small, was extremely comforting to him. He would be able to defend himself at least somewhat. As long as it is not when fighting the she-elf, Legolas thought irritably. His repeated failures against fighting her were beginning to grate on his nerves, and he had no one but himself and foolish male instincts to blame.  
  
Legolas struggled briefly when trying to free the knife from the wall. Even though it had not gone in far, the metal of the wall was incredibly strong and did not give. However Legolas eventually had the knife out and he held it in his open palm. Just the mere sight of the metal was soothing to him and his frayed nerves calmed down.  
  
Legolas closed his fingers over the hilt, feeling the edges that were engraved in it. He lashed out with his arm, taking a few practice swings. He struck with incredible speed and Legolas knew that his skills surpassed those of even other elves older than he. His stay here was disconcerting to say the least to his pride as a warrior and Legolas wanted nothing more than a chance to restore his faith in his fighting skills.  
  
Without a thought, Legolas moved the knife to his bandaged arm and buried the knife underneath the makeshift bandages. It was hidden from sight and secure though Legolas knew he no longer had the element of surprise. Eirien knew of the knife and would know that he still had it. She would be watching him carefully to see when he pulled it, Legolas knew. As for now, the small amount of protection provided by the steel blade allowed Legolas to finally be able to sit down and remain seated for a prolonged period of time.  
  
When it was clear that Legolas would not be getting any type of evening meal for the day, Legolas settled back in the bed and prepared to sleep. The fights with Eirien had taken some out of him like they always did and he wanted to build his strength back up. Since food was not an option as an aid in his restoration, he was only left with sleep.  
  
As he relaxed, his injuries caught up with him. His arm was throbbing uncomfortably and his chin and neck were tender to the touch and difficult to move easily. Hoping that his injuries would heal by the beginning of the next day, Legolas drifted off into the dreaming realm of the elves.  
  
His sleep was harshly interrupted a mere few hours later. Legolas was awake as soon as the door was thrown open, but his attackers were not trying to be stealthy and creep up on him. Three or so elves rushed his bed and had a hold on some part of his body before Legolas could even react.  
  
Even though he had been taken by surprise, Legolas was not content to simply lie still. As soon as the first hand touched him he jerked to the side and struck out with a fist. His fist hit its mark, though he did not know what it was, but he was not given the luxury of concentrating on only one foe. Two others were upon him and Legolas kicked out and arched his back, tearing free of the grips that held him. Legolas started to raise himself off of the bed, but two more joined the elves already at his side and he was grabbed and pushed roughly back down. Not allowing him to fight off anymore of his attackers, multiple hands latched onto him and held him still. Legolas could not move.  
  
Once it was made clear that Legolas' efforts to free himself were futile, the hands started to pull on him. He was dragged off of the bed and then forced to his feet. Legolas fought every inch of the way, but his only rewards were sharp blows to his torso and throat. After one such blow caused him to double over, his arms were yanked behind his back and his wrists bound with a thick rope that immediately chaffed at his skin. The coarse rope bit into his flesh further as it was pulled mercilessly tight.  
  
When he was bound tightly and held firmly still three of the elves backed off. Two remained at his sides, each holding onto one end of the rope. Legolas looked up and realized that his door was still standing open and there were more elves lined outside in the hallway. It reminded him vaguely of a line of guards watching over the proceedings of a dangerous criminal. The thought was hardly encouraging, but Legolas had the satisfaction of at least knowing that they still thought him dangerous.  
  
Legolas was not given any more time to wonder at the caravan outside of his door and he was shoved forward to start moving. Legolas complied, but he would only walk at his own pace. It was clear that the elves surrounding him wanted to move at a faster rate, but Legolas kept his paces slow and dignified. He would not be rushed.  
  
So Maeglin does know, Legolas thought grimly. He knew that he was being led to the dark elf-lord, most likely to be questioned and then disciplined. Legolas held his head high. He would not cow before the elf- lord and he would keep his wits about him. Legolas would try his best to not expose Glorfindel before the elf-lord.  
  
The slow pace was starting to annoy the elves around him, but no amount of prodding or threats could make Legolas move faster. He had the feeling that time was pressing to the elves, but Legolas could care less what happened to them. Even if it was only seconds, the more time he could buy Glorfindel the better.  
  
The assembly of elves reached their destination sooner than Legolas would have liked. The rope pulled Legolas to a momentary stand-still as other elves moved forward to take a hold on the handles of a very large and heavy-looking pair of doors. It took two elves on each door to pull them open and Legolas strained his eyesight as soon as the doors were open. This was an exit to the stone structure and fresh air greeted Legolas as he looked far beyond to see what awaited him. What he saw almost took his breath away.  
  
In the coolness of the night, more elves than he had ever anticipated were massed and battle-ready. Half of them were on strong horses while the rest stood on foot. Multitudes of weapons were drawn and ready and the very air was laced with excitement and bloodlust.  
  
Legolas thought that this was hardly all just for him before being pushed forward. The small contingent that was surrounding him walked him forward, straight down a path made by the separation of the army of elves. Legolas looked about himself as he walked. This was no hasty collection of elves. They stood in a rigid formation without a break in any of the lines. It was clear that they were trained and disciplined, an army that awed even Legolas.  
  
Legolas was marched up to the front of the horde. Maeglin sat high on a horse, watching him approach. Glorfindel and Eirien sat on horses flanking him. Legolas caught Glorfindel's eye. Glorfindel appeared unworried and at ease and gave no outward signs of comfort to Legolas. Disquiet uncoiled in the pit of his stomach and Legolas had to take a deep breath to keep his outward appearance calm.  
  
Against his will, Legolas caught Maeglin's eye. Desperately, Legolas tried to think of anything but Glorfindel, not wanting to give anything away. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Glorfindel sit up taller on his horse and lean to the side. This caused the animal to move about restlessly, scuffing at the hard ground before standing at rest again. The movement distracted Legolas, but Maeglin's dark eyes remained riveted to Legolas' blue ones.  
  
When Legolas grudgingly gave Maeglin his full attention again a knowing smile spread across the dark elf lord's face.  
  
"We are going to save your precious homelands now," Maeglin told Legolas. "I trust you shall want to come along?"  
  
Legolas did not bother to answer. He knew it was his choice either way. He definitely wanted to go with them to see what they would do to Mirkwood, but the thought of returning to his home as a prisoner was not to his liking. Yet just as Legolas suspected, the elf lord did not even expect an answer and he held up a hand as a signal. An elf stepped forward holding onto the reins of a horse. He stopped before Legolas and his two guards, a look of disgust clearly written on his face. Legolas caught his eye and kept his head held high, there was no way he would let a minion show such blatant disrespect. Eventually, the other elf gave in under the cold gaze of the elf prince and dropped his eyes.  
  
Maeglin spoke again. "I am afraid you shall have to ride with your hands bound as they are, we cannot risk any misbehaviour on our noble quest. You understand of course."  
  
Legolas did not even flick an eye in his direction and instead concentrated on the two guards who had suddenly surged forward, each latching onto one of Legolas' arms. They pulled him towards the horse and then started to lift Legolas on top of the horse. Legolas immediately dropped all of his weight and jerked out of the elves' grasp. He turned to face them, drawing himself straight, making his intention clear. Even though he was bound, he would never let another elf lift him onto a horse.  
  
Turning his back on them before they could grab a hold of him again, Legolas placed a foot in the stirrup of the saddle and then effortlessly pulled himself up on top of the horse. He sat down lightly, not wanting to risk harming or agitating the horse. Legolas did not like the saddle underneath his legs, he always rode bareback, but a quick look around told him that the other elves would not oblige him if he asked for it to be removed. For the first time Legolas noticed that all of the elves that were on horseback used a saddle and reins save Glorfindel. Glorfindel was seated comfortably on top of a large white horse, unlike the darker colored horses that carried the rest of the elves, and Legolas knew that it was his own.  
  
Legolas still had his arms bound behind his back so he was unable to free the reins from the hand of the elf that still held them. Legolas did not need the reins, though he had never ridden with his hands tied behind his back, Legolas was certain he would be able to ride the horse well without too much effort anyway. He merely wanted the other elf to let go.  
  
As soon as Legolas was settled on top of the horse, the elf leading the horse started to move towards Maeglin. Legolas assumed that perhaps the elf was going to lead his horse the whole way to make sure that Legolas did not break away from the group. With that in mind, Legolas was already working on a plan to break away from the elf and ride on as fast as he could to Mirkwood to alert his father before this army reached it. The only problems with this was that even though Legolas knew it would be fairly easy to free the horse from the elf leading it and he would be able to ride fast even with his hands tied, he could not guarantee that he would be able to ride so far as to not be caught. An elf with the use of both of his hands would be able to catch up to Legolas.  
  
Legolas' plotting was interrupted when the horse was stopped again and the reins handed over to Eirien. Legolas' mouth almost dropped open in surprise but he maintained his composure. Eirien glanced over at Legolas coolly, the purpose of her holding the reins made clear to Legolas. If he broke away from her, she would pursue him mercilessly with probably half of the contingent following. Legolas' prisoner stature was further enforced when the two guards who had originally been flanking Legolas suddenly appeared at his side on horses of their own. One of them pulled ahead of Legolas while Eirien and the other guard crowded him on the sides. He was boxed in.  
  
Maeglin watched as the elves positioned themselves around the elf prince and then he nodded. Without a spoken signal, he wheeled his horse around with Glorfindel following suit and staying close to his side and started forward. Maeglin and Glorfindel took the front positions with Legolas and his captors following closely behind them. Without turning, Legolas' ears picked up on the sound of the rest of the elves starting forward, they were all following.  
  
As soon as they passed a small hollow formed by heavy overhanging trees, Maeglin and Glorfindel started their horses into a canter and quickly adopted a swift pace. Legolas' horse was prodded to quicken its pace as well and Legolas had to hold on tightly to the horse with only his legs. The entire elf army surged forward, a tireless force moving straight towards Mirkwood. Legolas only looked back once and the vision of the large number of elves all moving together and with incredible speed made Legolas' spirits dim.  
  
  
  
  
  
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	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: I'm mad at ff.net. I would have had this chapter up sooner, but ff.net's being dumb, so don't blame me! And oh yeah, I need to mention that I shamelessly stole the Legolas plushie idea from Elentari Manwe, so she is entitled to 20% of all proceedings from our future production line. And yes, we will take over the world with it! Lady Tremere, I sent you an e-mail, but I'm not sure if you got it or not, so let me know. As for the rest of you, did I ever mention I truly love you guys? I mean, seriously, I get all emotional just thinking about it, or maybe not. Okay, well, even though it took longer than I had anticipated, this chapter's kind of long so it makes up for it. Enjoy! P.S. I'm not Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 22  
  
Darkness began to recede as the sun started to climb over the horizon. Legolas lifted his face towards it expectantly, it had been a long time since he had actually seen the sun and he hungered for its comforting warmth. Yet the sun was not to be enjoyed.  
  
As soon as enough of the sun was made clear to start to light the landscape, Maeglin banked his horse to the right and urged his animal even faster. The entire contingent followed suit, Legolas grudgingly included. Legolas wondered at the sudden change in direction, but the reasons were soon made clear. A large stone outcropping stood at the edge of the plain and Maeglin was heading straight for it.  
  
Apparently he is not too fond of the sun, Legolas thought dimly. And then a new thought gripped him, it was as if they were a caravan of traveling orcs. And since orcs hardly held good intentions when traveling, Legolas could only assume that Maeglin did not have the best of plans in regard to Mirkwood.  
  
The large stones were reached quickly and Maeglin was the first to ride in, pushing as far into the depths as he could. Legolas saw Glorfindel wheel away from the entrance and pull his horse to a stop next to it. He faced the sun directly, making it clear that he had no such aversion to it. As much as Legolas wanted to be left out with him, he was hardly surprised when his small group of guards and he sped right past the entrance into the hollow made by the rocks and then pressed down into the depths.  
  
The appearance of the rocks from the outside were deceptive, it was not merely a random collection of stones on the plain. As Legolas rode deeper inside, he strained his eyes to see in the enclosing darkness. The ground began to slope down underneath the protection of the stones, creating almost a cave. Yet it was not a true cave and Legolas had the impression that it was hand-made, not a natural part of the earth. Perhaps Maeglin had known of his dislike for traveling in the sun for quite some time and had made some preparations in order to accommodate his excursions.  
  
Legolas lamented to himself on having to miss out on the sun again. He longed so much for a few moments out in the sun and fresh air. Ever since being held by the Moriquendi all he knew were the darkness along with cold iron and stones. Legolas hardly knew anything of his appearance at the moment as it had been some time since he had seen a looking glass, but he knew that his skin was losing its coloring and he was beginning to resemble the pallor of these elves. His hair was no longer vibrant and golden but dull and flat and he definitely knew that he had lost weight. Even his eyes felt dim and listless. Legolas wondered briefly if his father would even recognize him when they reached Mirkwood.  
  
His horse was suddenly pulled to a stop, the cruel hand holding the reins being more harsh than was necessary. The horse skittered to a standstill and reacted violently against the callous treatment and reared halfway off of the ground to show its displeasure. Legolas was forced to grip the horse even more tightly with the use of his legs only to avoid being thrown to the ground. The added pressure only angered the horse more and Legolas tried to placate the animal by speaking softly to it in elvish. At the sound of his soothing voice, the animal immediately calmed and stood in place.  
  
Legolas heard a small snicker from his right. He glanced over at Eirien, annoyance clearly written on his face. "It seems there is hardly anything that you cannot master," she told him in a voice dripping with disdain. "Except of course for civil mannerism. Yet I suppose that is not enough to alarm you."  
  
Legolas completely ignored her comments and stared straight ahead at the back of the elf that sat in front of him. He heard her soft laughter ring in his sensitive ears and he fumed on the inside at having to repeatedly suffer such indignation, yet he knew that this was not the time nor the place to do anything about his discomfort. The other elves would be upon him in a moment's breath. He would merely have to bide his time.  
  
And he might not even have to wait that long.  
  
It was soon made clear that the elvish army planned to rest where they were before continuing. Legolas turned once in his seat to see behind him once his eyes adjusted to the dimness around him. The great number of elves had not allowed all of them to cram inside of the makeshift cave and Legolas could hear those who remained outside scattering to the few surrounding trees or other places to settle. The purpose was clear, they could not risk being openly spotted by any other elves. Such a large gathering would raise suspicion.  
  
Briefly, Legolas wondered if Glorfindel was still in the position he had halted in or if he too had wandered off in search of cover. The thought of the legendary Glorfindel creeping about like a common thief was disquieting to Legolas.  
  
Legolas shook his head free of the thoughts of Glorfindel. He had more pressing matters to think about. Now would be a prime time to free himself and race off to Mirkwood to warn his father. He would merely have to wait until enough of the elves had relaxed and were wandering in their dreams.  
  
Legolas should have known better that his tormentors had thought ahead of him.  
  
Without any type of warning, his two elven guards were at the left side of his horse. Before Legolas could even think of what they were going to do, four strong hands seized him and he was pulled unceremoniously from the horse.  
  
Legolas reacted instantly and landed lightly on his feet despite their rough handling. As much as Legolas wanted to punish them for treating him thus, he was forced to check himself. Even though he might have been able to get a few good licks on them even with his hands bound, he knew that the elves standing idly around would not hesitate in aiding their kin. Legolas would have to continue to wait.  
  
One guard each took a hold on one of his arms and pulled him harshly towards the farthest corner of the cave. In the corner Legolas could make out a long post imbedded into the ground. At first he assumed it was wood, but then chided himself as he was brought closer and saw that it was the same type of harsh metal that was so frequently used by these elves. Of course it was the iron, Maeglin would never permit the use of wood over his precious metals.  
  
Legolas was turned so that his back was facing the post and then pushed down forcefully into a sitting position on the ground. Legolas complied physically though he was raging on the inside. He kept his outward appearance calm and unfazed, refusing to let these elves think that they could get a rise out of him. He could tell that the two elves were confused at his cooperativeness thus far and were waiting for any type of sign to give him a sound trouncing for 'misbehaviour'.  
  
Legolas was held firmly against the iron post as another rough piece of rope was produced and hastily wrapped around him at the waist, securing him to the post. Legolas closed his eyes and leaned back into the post as the elves tied him down. He started to hum softly to himself, an old Sindarin song that reminded him of better days in Mirkwood.  
  
One of the guards stopped in tying the rope around him. "Stop that," he commanded Legolas impatiently.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes, "Stop what?"  
  
"That humming, we will have none of that here," the elf told him coldly. Obviously, he was waiting for a defiant reply from Legolas, and Legolas knew this, so he gave him none. The elf held himself tightly over Legolas, watching him tensely, waiting for him to defy his commands. Legolas merely closed his eyes again.  
  
He heard the elf grunt and then return to his task. The other elf had halted in his administrations to the rope as well, waiting to see what would happen. He started up again with the other elf and soon Legolas was tied securely in a fashion to their liking and they stepped back.  
  
Though Legolas had his eyes closed, he extended his other senses and knew that the two elves were standing not that far off and were watching him. Presently, they slowly lowered themselves to the ground, one on either side of Legolas, forming a triangular form with Legolas at the apex. Apparently, Legolas was not to be let out of their sight.  
  
Keeping his eyes closed so that he would not be telegraphing any sort of signals to the elves, Legolas began to slowly move his hands behind his back. Since his hands were still bound as they had been originally the elves had not bothered to bind them to the post, only tying him down at the waist. As a result, he could move his hands somewhat and Legolas worked on them now, stretching the rope and allowing himself more give.  
  
Even as Legolas moved his hands behind his back, he kept the rest of his body solid, moving only the muscles that were necessary. From the outside, he knew it looked as though none of his body was moving. He had leaned far back as they tied him, and now he straightened imperceptibly, creating a gap between the post and himself. It was only a tiny gap, but it was enough for him to have room to move his hands without jarring anything else.  
  
Legolas knew the guards were still watching him, but he hoped that they would soon grow bored of doing so. It would be when they looked around at other things that he would commit a more drastic move. Once he had worked enough slack into the rope, he would try to reach the knife that was still buried underneath his makeshift bandages.  
  
In no time at all, Legolas had created enough slack in the rope to try for what he wanted to do. Legolas stopped moving his hands and opened his eyes a slit. As he had assumed, his two guards were sitting a few feet away in front of him. And also as he had assumed, his lack of productivity had caused their alertness to fade away. They sat easily and languidly, their attentions not fully with Legolas. In fact, one of them already held the blank gaze of a sleeping elf. The other was not far from joining him.  
  
As Legolas waited for both of them to fall asleep, he looked around at the rest of his surroundings. There were other elves about, yet none were paying him any attention. There was no sight of Maeglin or Eirien, and Legolas was thankful for that.  
  
Legolas allowed the passage of a few hours before moving another muscle. He wanted his actions to be completely unexpected. When he knew that his two guards were indeed sleeping, he twisted his wrists and started to try to grab his knife. He could not keep his arms from moving somewhat as he did this, so he carefully kept his full attention on the gaze of his guards, searching for any sign that they might be waking.  
  
Legolas had his knife with less difficulty than he had previously imagined. Once he had the hilt firmly in his palm, Legolas worked on angling it so that he might be able to cut the coarse rope that held his hands together. This took some work, and he had to position his wrists in a most unfavorable position in order to even touch the blade to the rope. It was even more painful to move his wrists so that he may be able to cut the sinews of the rope apart, but Legolas clenched his jaw and persisted.  
  
His hands were free. Legolas grasped the rope in one hand, not even wanting to risk the soft sound of it hitting the floor. Before moving anymore, Legolas surveyed every detail of the two guards before him. They had not moved at all and their eyes were blank, but Legolas was wary of a trick. It was possible that they were faking being asleep in order to spring up and seize him if he tried anything. Yet Legolas knew from personal experience that it was extremely difficult to appear to be asleep when being scrutinized by another elf. Eventually, Legolas came to the conclusion that they were indeed still asleep.  
  
Now would come the most difficult part. Difficult only in the sense that it would be virtually impossible to hide what he was doing. His guards may have been asleep, but Legolas could not be sure if there was some elf hiding in the shadows of the cave watching him. Legolas could only hope to Valar that the arrogance of these elves made them less cautious.  
  
Still working behind his back with the knife, Legolas began to work on the rope tying him down at the waist. No amount of effort would be able to let his arms appear to be still as he did this, so he worked carefully and slowly, making his way painstakingly through each coil of the rope. His efforts were expanded upon due to the fact that the rope had been wrapped around so many times. He had many layers to work through.  
  
Even though it took more time than Legolas would have liked, the rope was eventually cut all the way through. He was still holding it with one hand so that it at least looked as though it was still intact. As before, Legolas halted all action and peered warily about his surroundings. It still seemed as though he had gone unnoticed, and this was just as unnerving to him as if he had been caught. In fact, half of him had expected himself to get caught, but nothing had happened, and now he had to go through with his plan.  
  
Now he had one of two options. He could try to sneak quietly out of the cave, or make a mad dash for the exit. Legolas actually favored the latter, knowing how sensitive the hearing of the elves were and not knowing if all of them were actually asleep, it would only be a matter of time before he was caught if he tried to sneak out. If he simply made a run for it, he would undoubtedly alert those around him, but he at least had the hope that it would take the elves by surprise, giving him enough time to get past them. Legolas knew that once he was out of the cave he might have an advantage over them. If they all shared their lord's dislike for the sun that would favor Legolas, and he knew for a fact that if he was able to reach the trees he would be able to lose them. No elf could move as swift as a wood-elf in the tops of the trees.  
  
Both options had their faults, Legolas was painfully aware of this, and chances of escape were slim, but Legolas knew he had to try something and the last option seemed to have a slightly broader chance of freedom.  
  
Legolas sat completely still and stretched his hearing as far as it would go in the cave. He picked up on the easy breathing of the elves, all were resting and off of a heightened sense of alert. Legolas assumed that they were saving their strength and energy for the real battle that was to come, the one with his homeland. After another quick survey of the state of the elves immediately surrounding him, Legolas made his decision.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. He bunched his muscles together, and letting the breath out slowly, he launched himself up out of his seated position in one fluid, graceful movement.  
  
His guards were immediately awake, but Legolas was already past them and out of their reach. They sprang up as well and called out, but Legolas was throwing all caution to the wind and focusing every conscious thought on that of speed. He was moving faster than he ever had in his life, adrenaline surging through every limb.  
  
Around him, Legolas could dimly make out the movements of other elves springing up or coming towards him to intercept him. But each time they moved for him, they missed him by a hair's breadth. As much as Legolas wanted to keep a straight path for the exit as it was the shortest way, he was forced to dodge to the side at times to avoid another elf. His movements and side-steps were short and only as long as they had to be, but they were eating up precious seconds. Elves were still between him and the entrance, and each second more they had to prepare themselves was a mark against Legolas.  
  
Legolas' senses heightened like he had never known they could. His muscle-eye coordination worked perfectly in sync, creating virtually no delay between assessing a danger and then adjusting accordingly to avoid it. His speed seemed to increase with each step, and Legolas could only accredit this to a source of adrenaline he had never had to use like this before. This was a desperate and final rush, and every fiber in his body knew this. He either got away from them now or would never be able to reach his father and save Mirkwood.  
  
The light from the exit was beginning to grow. Legolas was almost there. Yet he did not allow the knowledge of the closeness of it to slow him down. He could not let relief flood through him just yet. Legolas urged his legs even faster, trying to eat up as much ground between his strides as possible.  
  
An elf was suddenly directly in his path. Legolas veered to the side almost immediately, but it was not enough to avoid the elf entirely. Legolas felt a hand grab the top of his arm, but Legolas' momentum carried him forward and he spun and tore away from the elf. His course was severely altered by the action and Legolas had to bank hard to the left to correct his direction.  
  
Light exploded in his sensitive eyes. Legolas almost stopped moving, but then realized what had happened. He had reached the outside of the cave. The feel of the soft earth underneath his feet was refreshing to him and gave him another burst of energy. He was out in the open, he had a wide expanse of green in front of him, but he could not allow himself to stop just yet. Though he dared not look behind him, he could hear that his pursuers were not that far behind him. Legolas went on a straightaway path towards the fringes of a forest across the plain. He was not entirely sure what forest it was, but he would much rather take his chances with the trees.  
  
Though his pursuers were right with him, Legolas was at least thankful that they were behind him. Nothing stood between him and the trees. All he had to do was hold his own for a little while longer, than he would be safe.  
  
Legolas noted a blur coming at him in his peripheral vision. He did not have time to move out of its way or even to meet it and the only thing he could do was ascertain that it was an elf seated atop of a large white horse before he found himself suddenly on the bottom of a painful pile.  
  
Legolas crashed down to the ground with another body on top of him. Before a stunned Legolas could even make sense out of what had happened, the pressure on top of him eased and he found himself on his feet again, yet held immobile. The first sight to his dazed eyes was that of his pursuers coming to a sharp halt in front of him as they gave up the chase that had ended so quickly. Feeling as though time had slowed to a crawl after his desperate rush, Legolas' head slowly turned to the side to see what was now holding his arms so painfully down at his sides. It was Glorfindel.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: Poor, poor Legolas, he was so close wasn't he? (evil laughter) Now that ff.net seems to be up and running again we can continue on with the story! And what exactly is up with Glorfindel? Whose side is he on, what was he thinking, etc. etc.? Hmmm, I guess we'll have to wait to find out. Anyways, I have a feeling most of you are going to like this chapter, 'cause I really enjoyed writing it! So sad really, oh well, I love you guys so much, and a small reminder reviews are very nicely appreciated (as if you didn't know that.) And no I do not claim Tolkien's genius, the only character I truly want is Legolas, but there is always Orlando Bloom to go stalk and track down...I've said too much, on with the story!  
  
Chapter 23  
  
The abrupt end to Legolas' escape brought the young elf momentary confusion. Several thoughts raced through Legolas' mind. This was all a large ploy to put off his pursuers, Glorfindel was going to aid in his escape, his horse had run away from him and he had only accidentally fallen off on top of Legolas, every option went through. Yet even as his mind made up explanations, he could not understand why Glorfindel was continuing to hold his arms tightly and was now starting to march him back towards the cave. The elves that had followed Legolas outside were surrounding Legolas and Glorfindel tightly, seeing to it that the young elf prince did not escape again.  
  
Adrenaline still surged through Legolas' body and he kept his gaze on Glorfindel's face, searching for any sort of signal to begin running again. Yet Glorfindel's gaze remained fixed and to the front. As his hopes began to dwindle and reality began to set in, Legolas felt he had to say something. He was about to open his mouth to ask Glorfindel what he was planning on doing when Glorfindel shot him a stern look. Legolas kept his mouth shut.  
  
Finally beginning to realize that perhaps Glorfindel was not trying to aid him in his escape, Legolas took his eyes off of the blonde elf next to him and focused on the direction they were going in. He could clearly see the stone outcropping coming to greet them, and an angry looking Maeglin standing just inside of the entrance.  
  
In what seemed like less time it had taken Legolas to get away from the dank cave, they had reached it again. All adrenaline and false hope had emptied and the young elf prince tried to resign himself to his fate. He kept his mind off of Glorfindel, as he did not want to think about the actions of the elf he had always thought to be so honorable, and drew himself up to face Maeglin.  
  
Yet Maeglin was not even looking at him. His gaze was fixed on Glorfindel. "It seems that you were very lucky in being able to capture our unruly guest," he told Glorfindel softly, "almost as though you were merely in the right place at the right time."  
  
Glorfindel returned Maeglin's sharp gaze impassively and gave a short nod. "Of course I expect that you are pleased that I was able to return the one that your own hand-picked guards could not contain."  
  
Maeglin gave a thin smile. "You would be right to expect that," he replied. He sounded as though he wanted to add more, but before Glorfindel could even reply, the dark elf lord reached out and grabbed Legolas by the arm.  
  
Something inside of Legolas paused to admire the strength of Maeglin. His very grip was like the iron he so loved. Legolas had never felt such strength before, and something in the back of his mind wondered if even Glorfindel would be a match for him.  
  
However the momentary admiration melted away as Legolas found Maeglin's dark eyes now boring into his. He tried to meet the gaze, but the intensity of it would not allow him to hold it for too long. Legolas almost winced and settled on a spot underneath Maeglin's chin. He would not look completely away.  
  
Legolas steadied his breathing, not wanting Maeglin to know of any fear inside of him. He kept his eyes straight forward as Maeglin impatiently turned away from what little sunlight was filtering into the entrance and took Legolas with him. He walked swiftly and unerringly, almost pulling Legolas' arm out of the socket as the elf prince tried to keep up without it appearing as though he had to strain to do so without running along behind him. Legolas matched the stride of the dark elf in front of him, placing his feet in the exact spots Maeglin had stepped in. He did not even bother to acknowledge the leering elves around them, watching after Legolas and Maeglin with interest. They knew it was rare when their elf lord took matters into his own hands, but when he did, it was often quite a spectacle.  
  
Legolas was led back to the same post he had so recently broken away from and was forcibly placed against it. When Legolas was turned to face the direction he had just come in so that his back was to the pole, he was surprised to find Glorfindel not too far from him. He had assumed Glorfindel had stayed behind at the brink of the entrance, but he had followed Legolas and Maeglin, and now his normally expressionless eyes almost seemed to be tinged with worry. Legolas wondered at it, but his attentions were taken from Glorfindel when Maeglin returned from a very short trip somewhere to the side of Legolas and stood directly in front of him.  
  
The dark elf lord looked infuriated, and it grew with every breath he took. Legolas was of course expecting some sort of respite for his failed escape attempt, but he could not understand the amount of rage emanating from the elf lord.  
  
On an impulse, Legolas looked down at the elf lord's hands. He had expected to see perhaps a whip, akin to what had happened the last time he had been punished by the dark elf lord, but there was nothing in his hands save for a leather pouch. Legolas wondered at this and raised his eyes back to Maeglin's face.  
  
The dark eyes of the elf lord were hard and set and his face drawn. This was no simple punishment for a misbehaving elf, he looked as though murderous thoughts were behind his intention.  
  
Legolas unconsciously drew in a breath. He was not afraid to die, he was a warrior after all and an honorable death would land him in the Halls of Mandos, but he feared for what would happen to Mirkwood and his father.  
  
Legolas steeled himself, he would not cow even in the face of death.  
  
An unexpected intervention came from off to the right.  
  
"Lomion," a low voice said.  
  
Maeglin flicked his eyes off of Legolas and in the direction of the new voice. Legolas looked as well. He had completely forgotten that Glorfindel had accompanied them, and he stood now with his head lowered, his muscles taut, almost as though he was just waiting to spring.  
  
"It was not his fault," Glorfindel continued talking when he saw that he now had Maeglin's deadly attention. "Remember, we can still save him. That was the plan."  
  
The dark elf lord's face twisted as though he was trying to mask an unpleasant grimace. He stared at Glorfindel for a moment longer, and to Legolas it seemed as though the very air was palpable with tension between them and the battle of wills.  
  
Slowly, Maeglin's menace appeared to dwindle and he relaxed imperceptibly. He took his gaze from Glorfindel and looked almost thoughtfully at Legolas. The deadly intentions Legolas had read earlier were now lessened, but not by all means gone.  
  
Faster than Legolas could see, Maeglin reached out and grabbed the knife from Legolas' hand that he had completely forgotten that he still held. In a daze, Legolas looked at the knife now held in the elf lord's hand. He thought he had dropped it when he had started running, but apparently that had not been so. The focus of his body on his stamina had disregarded the hand still clutching the knife.  
  
From a tiny flick of Maeglin's hand, three elves stepped forward and held onto Legolas. One of them rebound his wrists with less mercy than before while the other two held him fast. Once his arms were once again bound behind his back he was pushed back down as he had been before with the metal post at his back. Hastily, he was once again tied down at the waist, again with less give in the rope than last time.  
  
When they were done, the elves stepped back and Legolas was confused. He had been expecting some sort of punishment, preparing himself for any type of beating that he may receive. But when it became obvious that he was not going to be receiving any, he began to wonder. Once again his eyes were drawn to the leather pouch held by Maeglin, but it was hanging loosely from the elf's palm and Maeglin was making no move to use whatever was inside of it.  
  
Warily, Legolas looked back up at Maeglin's face. The elf lord's gaze was directed at Glorfindel again and tension reined free.  
  
A thin smile graced the dark elf lord's face. "As you wish," he whispered softly at Glorfindel. Glorfindel straightened at the words, and his brows creased together imperceptibly. "We will wait," he continued, "but this must be done for now."  
  
The crease on Glorfindel's face deepened, but he gave a short nod.  
  
Maeglin's focus came back to Legolas. Legolas had been watching the proceedings almost with fascination, but once the dark eyes were upon him again he had to strive to appear to remain calm. He would seem haughty until the end, he vowed.  
  
Maeglin stared at him, and Legolas had the feeling like he always did when under scrutiny by him that the elf lord knew what he was thinking. Maeglin raised an eyebrow as Legolas thought this, as if something was amusing to him. A mix of confusion and fear tried to gain dominance inside of Legolas, but he willed it down.  
  
Legolas soon forgot about his internal struggles.  
  
With the same speed Legolas had previously admired, the hand of Maeglin that was holding Legolas' knife came down in a graceful arc.  
  
Legolas did not even have time to brace himself for the inevitable.  
  
He remembered all of his vows since waking up in the dark stone cell. He would never give in to these elves, and they would never hear him scream again. He would not let them win and would rather die in silence with his pride still in tact.  
  
All of this ran through Legolas' head in the one beat it took for Maeglin to reach Legolas. And he continued to think it for the beat after the knife kissed the flesh at the top of his thigh. But the pain that raced up to enflame his entire body after the second beat erased all of his thoughts.  
  
Maeglin slammed the knife down into the top of Legolas' leg, all the way down, driving the tip through to the other side so that it bit into the ground and held fast. Red escaped in exploding blossoms on both sides of Legolas' leg and spilled forth over his leggings and raced down eagerly to the ground.  
  
The immense wave of pain that accompanied such a cruel manacle was enough to make Legolas' mind go blank and his previous stipulations on pride escape him. It was too much for a single being to bear.  
  
Legolas screamed.  
  
The tormented sound rang out in the stone imprisonment and echoed in the confinement. It was enough to make the excited looks on the faces of some of the elves dim and turn sober at the sound of pure anguish.  
  
When his lungs were emptied, Legolas bit down on his lip hard and clawed at the ground futilely. He pulled his free leg up to his chest and drew his torso up, trying to back away from the pain. The meaning for the purpose of the viciously imbedded knife was clear, Legolas would not be freeing himself and making a run for it again anytime soon. Yet reason was far from Legolas' mind as his tortured body took over.  
  
He had never felt anything like this.  
  
He was no stranger to battle wounds and had been cut by steel many times. Yet to have a blade impaled clean through to the hilt and then left in to pin him down to the ground was a new evil he had not experienced.  
  
Blackness was quickly consuming Legolas, and he eagerly awaited it. The only thought he had right now was to be free of the pain.  
  
Right before Legolas gave into the oblivion of unconsciousness, his eyes captured the sight of Glorfindel standing off to the side. He was staring right at Legolas, watching the suffering of the young elf, and a glint of anger was in his bright blue eyes.  
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	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: Ah-ha, another triumphant chapter. Whatever will happen to Legolas? Seems like he has the worst luck...Once again, I love you all so much, and as your lovely reward for being so nice, here's another chapter. Okay then, I'm not Tolkien, and I get no money for this, so yeah, whatever. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 24  
  
Legolas began to become aware of a constant jarring effect. As he began to dwell on the bothersome motion, he realized that it had been going on for a while, and it was high time that it stopped. The uneven pace was jerking his body about painfully, and after a few more moments, he decided he did not want to take it any longer.  
  
Very slowly, Legolas opened his eyes. He had not realized until the moment he opened them that they had been closed. Darkness met his open gaze and he vaguely wondered if perhaps something was wrong with his eyes or if he had not opened them after all. A few more moments passed, and Legolas settled on the conclusion that it was merely dark outside.  
  
And he was outside. Fresh, cold air whipped past his cheeks and he welcomed it eagerly. As far as he could remember, it had been a while since he had felt the fresh air. Yet why was that? Why had he not been outside and why was he out now when it was dark? Too many questions for Legolas' very tired mind and he gave in to the irresistible urge to close his eyes again. He wondered very briefly as to why his eyes wanted to close since he normally slept with his eyes open, but it seemed like a very trivial matter at the time and chose to ignore it.  
  
This time, however, he could not fall back asleep. The unsettling motion continued and he became aware of an incessant throbbing in his leg. When he focused on the leg, the pain increased and grew throughout the whole of his body. It finally became so bothersome that Legolas could not even concentrate on going back to sleep. He opened his eyes again and this time straightened his head. As soon as he did so the world around him tilted dangerously and he had to grip something in front of him to keep from falling.  
  
His hands met a mane of dark hair and he almost let go in surprise at the feel of it. His mind had had too much and he refused to even try to process this recent information. He did not care if he could not sleep, he would make himself sleep.  
  
A voice interrupted his reasoning.  
  
"So our little Prince is awake. Now let go of the horse and leave him be, you will not be able to get him to obey you so do not even try."  
  
The voice was cold and held disdain and was oddly familiar to Legolas. He thought hard to place it and why he thought it was important. Finally, his mind clicked and he put a name to the voice.  
  
Eirien.  
  
Everything else shattered and immediately fell into place. He could think clearly again and he remembered quite vividly as to why he had not felt fresh air in a while and why his leg was throbbing so. And as for the unbalanced feeling, he was seated haphazardly on a horse in front of somebody else holding him carelessly around the waist with one arm. Obviously that someone was Eirien.  
  
Legolas regained full attention and he straightened up, his leg sending up a warning as he moved it slightly to better position himself. "What are you doing?" Legolas asked the she-elf behind him.  
  
Eirien sighed impatiently, as if she had been expecting him to speak sooner or later but severely hoping it would be later.  
  
"Unfortunately, I was keeping you from falling," she informed him caustically.  
  
That was definitely something Legolas could not understand, and he could not even attribute it to temporary amnesia. "Why?"  
  
"Because we had to be on the move again and it looked like you were not going to be waking anytime soon so I was graced with the privilege of being your personal escort since I have the bad luck of being the lightest. My lord did not want to be held behind simply because some poor beast had to strain under the weight of two full grown male elves."  
  
Like always, Legolas did not like the way she spoke to him, but he could do nothing about it at the time. "Well, I am awake now, so I believe I can handle my own horse."  
  
"There is no point in stopping now for the sake of you getting your own horse," Eirien told him shortly.  
  
"Then your lord will not have to worry about being held back. We can make better time if our horse did not have to strain so." Legolas silently congratulated himself on using her own words against her.  
  
Eirien was obviously not impressed. "As I said, there is no need for better time, we are almost there."  
  
Legolas sat up and looked around sharply at their surroundings. That had been the last answer he had been expecting. She was right, they were approaching the borders of Mirkwood forest from the Southern end, the one not guarded as the stronghold was in the Northern end. They were entering the part of the forest that was overrun by spiders and darkness.  
  
"How long have I been out?" Legolas breathed. His shock at being so close to his homeland was evident. Dread began to settle within the pit of his stomach, there was no more time left to warn his father.  
  
"This would be the fourth night now," Eirien told him. Even though he could not see her as he was facing away from her, he could tell from her voice that she said it with a smile. "I believe our young prince has no control over his own body."  
  
Legolas stiffened, but once again forced himself to remain neutral. He knew he was in no condition to start a fight that would set off all the elves immediately around him. He tested his leg gingerly. In the darkness he could see the dark blood that had dried all around the wound, it was a wonder he had not bled to death. But a slight odor of herbs led him to believe that his wound had been packed and that had been why he did not bleed out. Still, the leg was extremely sore, the muscles ripped apart and torn through. He wondered if he would even be able to stand upon it.  
  
The contingent had just reached the fringes of the forest. It occurred to Legolas for the first time that he was not in front, rather near the back with no Maeglin or Glorfindel in sight.  
  
The horses in front of Legolas slowed. Obviously, they were not going to simply rush into Mirkwood, they were going to take it slow and creep through to the Northern end, probably to sneak up on the elven stronghold and to not disturb the creatures of the darkness that dwelled within the South end.  
  
As quiet as was possible, the whole army of elves dissolved into the trees. They had spread out in a fan formation, not wishing to be caught in a large group. It was not beyond their reasoning that some of them would die before they even reached the elven stronghold, so the next best solution was to minimize the number as much as possible. By spreading out, they were not allowing themselves to not be picked off so easily.  
  
As soon as their horse hit the brink of the forest, Legolas shifted uneasily. He knew this forest better than any of the elves here, yet even he had never been in this part. As a young elf, he had heard enough stories to keep him out of it. The closest he had ever come to this part was going a few feet off of the southern border of the realm that the elves lived in. He had witnessed and also been involved in several small battles to keep the large spiders out of elvish borders, yet in the depths of the darkness, spiders were the least of their problem.  
  
"Look at what you allowed to happen," hissed Eirien from behind him.  
  
Legolas whispered furiously back at her, "This is not the fault of the elves. A growing threat is the cause for the shadow, and your lord is going to be the one to aid it."  
  
Eirien let out a sound that almost sounded like a growl to Legolas, but she said no more about it. They were both concentrating on their surroundings and straining their hearing for any signs of an immediate threat.  
  
Legolas became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had to share a horse and was not in control of it. It made him feel powerless, and he did not like that feeling. He wanted to be able to warn the animal and send it into flight within a second's notice of danger. And even though Eirien was an elf, he did not trust her instincts as much as his own. Plus there was the fact that she probably did not care if he lived or died and would only manuever to save herself.  
  
Legolas allowed a small amount of time to pass. "Let me have the reins," he spoke quietly to Eirien.  
  
Eirien snorted, "I think not."  
  
Legolas had fully expected this answer. "Either let me have the reins or die. I know this forest better than anybody here and if you wish to stay alive you will let me guide the horse on the safest path." This was of course partially a lie, but Legolas counted on the fact that Eirien did not know this.  
  
The she-elf was silent for a few moments. When she spoke next, Legolas could hear the fear in her voice that she was trying to quell. "You will not try to run away?"  
  
"I would never run in this part of the trees," Legolas answered in all honesty, "that is when they hunt you. Running is the same as fear."  
  
Legolas was almost surprised when Eirien handed him the reins. He had not been sure if she would concede so easily. But when he took the reins he felt Eirien sit straight up, her breathing uneven. She was scared.  
  
As soon as he had control, Legolas whispered a few soft words in elvish to the horse. He calmed the animal that looked like it wanted to bolt any second and reassured it that he would sense the danger ahead of time. The animal calmed somewhat, but still looked as though it wanted to run.  
  
Legolas focused all of his attention on the surrounding trees, listening for anything that would come from them. Yet all was quiet, and that fact did little to ease him. He would rather hear the comforting chirrup of birds, not the dead silence from animals who had long since deserted this place.  
  
The thought of escape entered his mind once, but that would be far too risky at the moment. He had spoken the truth to Eirien, if he tried to get the horse to run now he would not have to worry about the other elves cutting him down, something else would do it. The first thing he had to concentrate on right now was staying alive, he would worry about escape later.  
  
Every elf was on the highest level of alert, the horses stepping with more care than Legolas had ever witnessed. Anticipation and fear was apparent, and Legolas leaned slightly forward over the neck of the horse, peering into the darkness of the trees.  
  
Thus went the whole of the night. By the time morning dawned, nothing had yet happened and all was still silent. Legolas had wondered briefly if Maeglin would make them stop when day broke, but he soon saw that it did not matter. The sun did not break through the heavy trees and the land still dwelled within perpetual twilight. The only way Legolas even knew that it was morning was the lightening of the mists upon the ground. Morning's dew was breaking up.  
  
The elves continued. When the sun had risen some more, the gloom of the forest dissipated somewhat and it was easier to see. This in addition to the fact that nothing had yet happened caused the elves to begin to relax. The stopped straining their senses to their surroundings and rode more easily, their muscles lax.  
  
To Legolas, this was a fatal mistake. Instead of relaxing, he became more tense. He felt something in the very back of his mind, and he did not trust whatever presence was in this forest. He had the feeling he always had when on the borders of the forest and away from the stronghold, that there were eyes upon him. From what he did not know, but he knew that he could not shake the feeling and that it was not simply born out of paranoia.  
  
Legolas wanted to yell at the other elves to not drop their guard, but he knew it would do him no good. They would only either laugh at him or even punish him for speaking out. He cared not if they died, but he was worried about being caught up in the middle of the group if a battle broke out.  
  
The thought of battle brought something else to mind. Legolas had no weapons. If he had his bow and arrows, he would be assured that he would be able to kill something if it came at him. Now he would have to rely on the speed of the horse, and if the horse was killed or he was thrown, his leg would rid himself of any chance he had of saving himself.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and calmed his thoughts. Thinking about all that could go wrong was not something that would help. As long as he stayed focused and on the present, he would be fine.  
  
Or so he vainly thought.  
  
Author's Note again: I know, I know, terrible place to end, I'm so sorry, but the chapter was way too long and I had to break it up. Don't worry, I'll have the rest of it up by Monday, I swear. Okay? No hard feelings? (laughs nervously) okay then... 


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: Alright, here we are, a new chapter, as promised, no need for warrior celery or other threats, we're all just gonna sit down and read and have a good time, okay? Cause that's what this is all about right? Okay then, as long as we are all on the same page here and nobody gets hurt, well, except for Legolas of course (evil laughter). And once again, I am not Tolkien, I only shamelessly steal his ideas due to lack of creativity.  
  
Chapter 25  
  
An hour or more passed, and the anxiety dwelling within Legolas' mind was becoming too much to bear. It was almost a mental shout that was telling him to get out of there and get of there quickly. The horse picked up on Legolas' feelings and started to fight the reins, wanting to break out into a run. Legolas carefully checked the animal and struggled for control.  
  
"What are you doing to the horse?" Eirien asked from behind him.  
  
Legolas had almost forgotten she was there. "He wants to break away and run," he told her.  
  
"Does he sense something?" she asked suspiciously. The fear was more evident in her voice now.  
  
"Only the same thing I do," Legolas replied quietly.  
  
"And what would that be?" It was not a question asked in sarcasm, but in earnest, she truly did not feel the menace in the trees, but was at least able to sense his unease.  
  
Legolas reminded himself that these elves were not wood-elves and did not spend much time within nature. They were relaxing because they truly did not feel the danger.  
  
"There is something within these trees, eyes, watching us. We should never have come here." Legolas did not expect the she-elf to believe him, but she said nothing and out of the corner of his eye he could see her look around carefully at the trees around them.  
  
Legolas began to weigh his options. They had traveled too far within the forest, it would do no good to try to turn and make for the fringe of the forest. The best thing to do would be to press on and try to make it to where his father and people dwelled. Legolas wagered that it was less than a day's ride to reach the city. If nothing interfered with their passage, they would make it a little after nightfall.  
  
And then what would happen? The anxiety from the trees had driven Legolas' mind to forget who he traveled with. Even if they reached it safely, Maeglin would then start a battle to take over Mirkwood.  
  
Bitter reality settled within Legolas. The best thing to do now would be to let his horse run away and create a lot of noise to alert the inhabitants of the trees. Perhaps enough of the elves would be slain to save Mirkwood. It was a suicide mission at best, but Legolas knew he could not just let them march into his father's home.  
  
As it turned out, Legolas did not have to do anything to attract attention.  
  
Just when Legolas tested the thought of a suicide mission, a black- feathered arrow came from the trees and impaled an elf less than ten feet from Legolas' own horse in the chest. There was a moment of stunned silence as the elves who witnessed the assassination stopped and regarded the elf who slumped slowly off his horse and down to the ground. The remaining elves looked around at each other and then uneasily at the trees, but before anybody could decide on fight or flight, a whole volley of arrows came from the depths of the trees and towards the elves.  
  
Legolas ducked and laid low over the neck of the horse. The frightened animal was confused and tried to rear in its terror. Legolas fought to bring the animal down while prompting it to run at the same time. Eventually the horse obeyed him and started moving forward.  
  
Many others were doing the same thing. They surged forward, calling out to the other elves that there was an ambush. Legolas looked to the side and into the trees. It was as he suspected, hordes of goblins ran throughout them, looking for a place to get the best shots off.  
  
The elves started to fight back. They fired arrows as they ran both on foot and on horse. Legolas grit his teeth in the frustration of not having his bow and quiver. Yet as he glanced over at the other side, he noticed that Eirien had a bow and was firing off shots.  
  
Legolas straightened from the low position he had been in to urge the horse faster and twisted in the saddle. "Give me the bow," Legolas commanded.  
  
Whether it was due to her fear or the authority in his voice, Eirien complied. Reactions and matters of cooperation between individuals were different when it meant the difference between life and death.  
  
Legolas gripped the bow expertly and quickly took the proffered arrow from the she-elf. He narrowed his eyes and sighted along the arrow before letting it fly between the trees. The screech of a stricken goblin proved he hit his mark.  
  
Legolas got off three more shots, all of them true, when the horse screamed and fell to its knees on its forelegs. Legolas stopped firing arrows and gripped the neck of the horse to keep from being thrown. He soon saw the reason for the animal's stumble, a cruel looking arrow was imbedded neatly in the right flank of the horse. Legolas reached over and yanked it out of the sordid flesh. The horse cried out again and pushed itself up to try and regain its footing. Legolas became aware of a tight vise around his mid-section and he looked down in distraction. The she-elf was gripping him tightly, trying to keep on the horse through his balance.  
  
The horse stumbled for a few paces and tried to pick up speed before pitching forward again. This time, Legolas could not keep his hold. He hit the ground with his shoulder and rolled automatically to get back up on his feet. Yet when he tried to stand, his leg refused to obey him. Unsteadily, Legolas stood with his weight placed on one foot. He looked over at the fallen horse. It would be no more help to him, the poor beast was writhing on the ground, straining to get up. Legolas knew that the arrows were most likely dipped in the cruel poison the goblins loved so much, the horse was dying.  
  
Eirien was croaching uneasily to the right of Legolas. She was gripping her sword and watching for anything to approach. Legolas knew that would do her no good. The goblins were not coming in for hand to hand combat, this was simply an ambush, an unfair raid from the trees.  
  
The sound of hoof beats redirected Legolas' attention. He saw a riderless horse coming his way. Legolas turned to face it, lowering himself for a good spring.  
  
When the horse was within reach, Legolas uncoiled his body and grabbed the top of the saddle. He leapt and pulled himself up onto the top of the horse. His jump was successful, yet when he landed in the saddle his injured leg hit the side of the horse and he was rewarded with a wave of searing pain.  
  
Legolas fought through the pain and laid down low over the horse, letting the animal run where it wanted to. He knew the horse had instincts of its own and would run to where there was the least amount of threat.  
  
When the pain had subsided, Legolas realized that he still gripped the bow he had taken from Eirien, but he had no arrows to use with it. Legolas slung it over his back, deciding to keep it should he get the chance to collect any arrows. Legolas then focused on blending with the animal as best as he could to allow the horse the best amount of speed. He did not touch the reins, not wanting to interfere with the horse's stride and only gripped the mane lightly to keep himself steadied. His face was close to the horse's ear as he leaned and Legolas urged it softly in elvish, provoking even greater speed.  
  
Legolas rode past many elves, yet none even took any notice of him, so intent they were on fighting the goblins and saving their own lives. The best Legolas could do at the moment was simply lie low and let the horse navigate its own way out of the mess. Legolas kept a sharp eye out, watching for any arrows that would come their way. After a short amount of time he began to notice that the bulk of the arrows were flying behind him. The horse was outrunning the goblins and had pulled in front while the bulk of the elves still remained behind him. He was in the clear and out of the middle of the mess. Legolas urged the horse even faster.  
  
He kept the horse going at a break-neck speed for as long as it could. When it began to show clear signs of fatigue, Legolas straightened and told it softly to stop. The horse threw its head and snorted, yet slowed down into a trot. The animal's eyes were wide and showed white all around as it looked about nervously. Legolas understood what the horse felt, they were not yet out of the darkness of the forest and there were still fell beasts about, but the immediate danger was gone. They had left the goblins behind and consequently the other elves as well.  
  
Legolas checked the horse to the side. The horse balked at the change in direction, but continued after soft promptings from the elf. Legolas knew that the horse had been traveling in a straight line, the fastest way to be rid of the danger, and that meant that he was vulnerable to recapture. He doubted that the goblins were able to slay all of the Moriquendi and they would be moving along presently. To Legolas, it seemed the best he could do now was to take a roundabout way home and hope that he reached it before Maeglin and his elves.  
  
The only problem with taking a longer path home was staying true to his course and not running into anymore dangers.  
  
It was a large problem, but Legolas had to do it. The attack from the goblins would make the other elves more wary and cause them to press on faster. They would reach the city of Mirkwood before nightfall.  
  
Despite Legolas' unfamiliarity with the southern end of the forest, he felt he still had a well enough sense of direction. Instincts drew him towards his home, and an intense desire to reach his home quickly made his senses stronger.  
  
Legolas urged the horse into a swift canter. He kept himself alert to the trees around him, not willing to make the same mistake as the other elves, and hoped to the Valar that he would pass by unnoticed. His every thought coiled down to one thing, reaching his father and his people and warning them before Maeglin did. 


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: Over 300 reviews!!!! WOW!!!! (throws review party) Thank you so much you guys, you have no idea, I never expected to get this many, maybe 100 if I was really lucky. I'm so happy there are people actually enjoying my story, so for your wonderful words and thoughts, here's another chapter! (Yeah I know, I do that a lot.) And special thanks to those of you who realize that beating me now for cliffhangers will only delay in the updating, so thanks for restraining yourselves. Once again, love you all, and some of you seem to be suspicious over the fact that Legolas got away so easily, does this mean no more torture?!? (Come on guys, think of who you're dealing with here.) Let's just say that this story is not yet quite over, there may still be a few more surprises yet. Okay, that's more than enough babble, I do not claim Tolkien's genius as my own, I am realistic enough to know I'm not that creative. On with the story!!!!  
  
Chapter 26  
  
The sun was setting. This realization caused Legolas to pause for a moment and look better at his immediate surroundings. The foliage above him was not as dense and the trees less menacing, allowing the waxing light of the sun to be seen. He had made it to the northern part of the forest. All he had to do was keep to the same course he was on. He would be arriving at the back gate of the city, but that was a small concern to him. As long as he reached it, all would be well.  
  
The gate was soon within sight. Legolas dug his heels into the tired horse. He felt bad for pushing the animal so, but promised it rest as soon as they were past the gates. Legolas wanted to reach his home as quickly as possible and since his leg would not allow him to do it on his own, the horse would have to carry him with speed.  
  
He was at the gate just as the sun dipped underneath the horizon and dusk blanketed the whole of the forest. Yet he could see well enough, for the stars shone brightly between the trees and small lanterns lit the city from within. Legolas paused momentarily at the gate and uttered the elvish password that would grant him entrance. The wooden gates swung open and Legolas directed the horse forward.  
  
When the horse stopped a few feet within the entrance Legolas carefully swung himself off of the horse. His leg had healed somewhat, considering that according to Eirien it had been about four days since he had received the wound, and he could suffer to stand upon it. Yet he knew that he would not be able to run should the need arise and so he held the reins of the horse loosely in his hand and led it with him.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
There had been no guards at the gate and nobody was in sight. Legolas understood that the back gate was not used often and not as heavily guarded as the front, yet there was always at least a few elves stationed at it. Especially in times such as these, Mirkwood could not afford to stand unguarded.  
  
Legolas' leg forced him to move more slowly than he wished, yet he trod softly, not wanting to create any more noise than was necessary. Silence stretched all around him, and it would seem a sin to disturb it.  
  
The palace that was home to his father rose before Legolas. That too appeared to be deserted. It was a normal occurrence to see elves about the palace, conversing with each other or meeting for an event that would take place within the palace walls. Yet the structure matched the silence of the rest of the city and the only thing that led one to believe that there was any productivity within the city at all was the lighted lanterns that hung throughout the place. Somebody had to have lit the lanterns, Legolas knew.  
  
He approached the palace uncertainly and with more caution. Once he reached the large doors, he hesitated. There was of course no way he could lead the horse inside the palace, his father would never stand for such a disgrace, and yet the thought of leaving behind the only means of a swift exit should he need it was discomforting.  
  
After a brief debate with himself, Legolas let go of the reins. He quietly told the horse to stay where it was, figuring that as long as the horse was just outside of the doors he could make it that far on his own.  
  
Legolas took a small breath before pushing the doors open. He was not sure why he was at such unease, he should be feeling relief and triumph for finally having returned home. He should have been expectant to see the look on his father's face when he saw his son return home to him and the joyful reunion that would commence. But the same nagging paranoia that had shadowed his thoughts ever since entering the forest was still with him and it was telling him to go no further. The continuing silence aided the feeling of a threat and Legolas had to steel himself before gaining the will to lift his palm and place it upon the broad surface of the door.  
  
Legolas pushed his weight against the door.  
  
He did so slowly, and he was uncomfortably reminded of the time when Glorfindel had left his door unlocked. He was acting in the same manner as then, with controlled efforts and a stealth that he felt was necessary.  
  
Legolas shook his head and berated himself. He was no skulking prisoner any longer, he was a prince returning to his home, he should walk in with poise and dignity, not under the cover of stealth. Legolas added more pressure on the door and took a bold step forward.  
  
Legolas stopped again.  
  
He could not shake the remembrance of the night within Maeglin's dwelling when he had escaped from his room. Glorfindel had left the door unlocked, Legolas knew that much to be true, but why would he do such a thing? Surely Glorfindel was not merely forgetful, it had not been an accident.  
  
Several thoughts went through Legolas' head at once. He recalled what Glorfindel had told him right before he had left, 'You need to be strong for your father, for that is the path I see him using you on...'  
  
And then Legolas remembered what he had overheard Maeglin say. 'Thranduil's attention is now fixed on Rivendell and a roaming renegade band...'  
  
Legolas himself had entered from the back gate, the last direction anybody in Mirkwood would look if they were awaiting word from Rivendell.  
  
Something was terribly wrong.  
  
Legolas stepped away from the door, letting it swing shut from where he had partially opened it. His instincts were once again screaming at him, and he was indecisive as to whether or not he should actually listen to them.  
  
Taking a short look around the still deserted outside once again, Legolas compromised. He would go in quietly and see if there was anybody inside. If the inside was just as deserted, he would come back and get on his horse and get out of there.  
  
This was the best idea he could come up with without turning away and feeling like he was abandoning his father. He had to see what was going on inside, he could not merely turn away now.  
  
Legolas pushed the door open again. He was thankful that his father ordered such tight maintenance, the hinges made absolutely no sound as the door gave way before him. It was nothing like the heavy iron doors of the Avari.  
  
Legolas slipped through a small gap in the door and skirted a ways to the side before pausing to look around. There was nothing to be seen within the entrance, and save for the few lanterns that were lit Legolas would have thought it had not been used since he had been gone. Keeping his steps small and controlled Legolas went forward.  
  
Instinctively Legolas went straight for the entrance to the Grand Hall. It was the largest room in the structure and right down the hall from where he stood. This was where the king was most often found. If there was nothing in the Hall Legolas would next scout his father's own chambers before deciding what to do next.  
  
The closed doors stood before Legolas.  
  
He had stopped himself again, unsure as to why he continued to feel such unease. This was his home, he knew everything about it, he could not be afraid in his own home.  
  
As soon as Legolas thought this, he became aware of the feel of a bow across his back. He remembered taking Eirien's bow and keeping it and that he had no arrows to use with it.  
  
The promise of a weapon after being weaponless for so long was so enticing to Legolas that he immediately stepped back from the doors of the Grand Hall. With considerably less hesitation than it had taken him to enter the palace he turned down a side hallway and went straight for the armory. There was no sense in being completely foolish. He had thought continuously from the beginning of all this madness that things would have been drastically different had he only had a few of his own weapons. There was no need to add another regret to this whole experience.  
  
Legolas was in the large room they used as storage for weapons in a matter of moments. He went straight for what he knew he needed. Discarding the poorly-crafted bow Eirien had given him he picked up a Mirkwood bow in its place and a full quiver of arrows. After strapping the quiver onto his back, he reached for his next favorite weapon, the twin elven blades. He placed the long knives on his back between his shoulder blades and under the quiver with the hilts protruding for easy access.  
  
Feeling a lot more confident than he had felt ever since awakening in a dark stone room, Legolas started to make his way back to the Grand Hall. His step was as determined as he could make it while still being light and minding his wounded thigh. This time when Legolas reached the closed doors, he pushed both of them open, entering through the middle, his bow already held out and ready to use.  
  
What he saw made his renewed brazen feelings drain from him.  
  
The room was full with elves, both his people and Maeglin's. Everybody had been silent and turned expectantly when they heard the doors open. There were a few gasps when the Sindarin elves saw their prince return and a few delighted looks, but most expressions remained the same, resolute and awaiting their fate.  
  
Legolas felt the doors swing shut behind him again yet he paid it no heed. His mind was racing as it tried to catch up to what was going on. Out of all the things he had been expecting to find, this was not one of them.  
  
Finally, after sifting through the faces in the crowd, Legolas saw the one elf he was looking for. His father, King Thranduil, stood proudly at the very front of the room on the elevated platform that he always stood on when making a speech or enjoying a celebration's festivities. Legolas locked eyes with his father and tried to read from him what was going on. The king's face was carefully controlled, a mirror of Legolas' own, and he revealed nothing except for a small sign of joy at seeing his son mixed with something Legolas could only place as dread. This revelation was not comforting to Legolas.  
  
An arrogant voice pulled Legolas' attention away from his father.  
  
"There you are young prince, we have all been waiting for you."  
  
Legolas looked to the far side of the platform where Maeglin was starting to ascend to stand over next to Thranduil, taking a position that was only fit of nobility. Glorfindel was with him, but he remained off of the platform and to the side, watching all the proceedings calmly. Legolas had not seen the fair-haired elf since being so graciously turned over by him. His previous faith in Glorfindel had been dimmed and shadowed and he spent no time dwelling on him and wondering what side he was on. Legolas would deal with this on his own.  
  
Unconsciously Legolas already had an arrow fitted to the string and the bow bent. He was pointing it straight at the dark elf lord, and Maeglin smiled when he saw it.  
  
"You might not want to do that," Maeglin commented softly. He glanced over to the right and Legolas followed his gaze. The other end of the platform was banked with Maeglin's soldiers and they all had bows drawn with arrows pointing straight at Thranduil. Legolas let his gaze wander over the rest of the room, the dark elves were placed strategically around on the ends, all of their weapons drawn, while Legolas' people stood in the center of the room, and none of them had weapons. Legolas briefly wondered how they had gotten all of them into the room and without weapons and where his father's own warriors were. Legolas recognized a few of Thranduil's personal guards, but the bulk of the soldiers were absent.  
  
Legolas lowered his bow but kept his fingers on the taut string.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked in a low voice.  
  
Maeglin smiled.  
  
"I am so pleased that you asked that." 


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: There now, the wait wasn't that bad was it? (ducks flying objects thrown at her) Okay, okay, I'm sorry! But worry not, here's a new chapter, and I think it's good but whatever, I'm biased. And as for being such a cruel cliff-hanger author, I will say that I sympathize and hate cliff-hangers as well, but they're so perfect to end a chapter with! Yeah, yeah, I know, you could care less. Okay then, hopefully none of you are so mad that you'll stop reading and I hope you're enjoying the story. And as always, my name does not resemble Tolkien's in the slightest and I don't own his brilliance.  
  
Chapter 27  
  
Legolas narrowed his eyes at the dark elf lord. He kept his expression tight and waited for Maeglin to elaborate.  
  
"It seems that we are all at a misunderstanding, and the best we could do was merely wait for you." Maeglin's tone turned mocking, "You of course took a bit longer than I had previously anticipated, but I suppose your unfortunate set-back from the goblins was the fault of it. Perhaps we should be grateful you made it at all, many of my men fell."  
  
Legolas fought the urge to shake his head. He hated it when others spoke in riddles. All he needed was a simple answer.  
  
Maeglin was continuing.  
  
"As it was, we arrived before you did and offered a proposal to your father. He of course refused, yet his word can be overturned by his only living heir, since in death he would be forfeiting his rights as king."  
  
Legolas frowned and the bow wavered in his hands. He did not like where this conversation was going and wanted to merely put an arrow through Maeglin's chest. However instinct that told him it would be futile stilled his hand. He would not be able to kill Maeglin, he was too fast, and before Legolas could react he would give the order to have Thranduil slain.  
  
Maeglin was continuing.  
  
"It is all quite simple. Put down your bow, and surrender your allegiance to me. Your word will be all that we need to proceed with our plans for Mirkwood. If you should also decided to refuse, you and all your people shall die."  
  
As the realization of what the dark elf lord had just said sunk in, a small thread of panic started to unwind in Legolas. It was obvious as to why his own father had refused, he would most certainly rather die than turn over his kingdom and be made a slave. Plus he likely knew as well as Legolas that Maeglin did not have the best of intentions for Mirkwood in his heart.  
  
It was too much to take in, Legolas did not know what to do.  
  
"You shall have to decide quickly of course," Maeglin added. He smiled again, "The fate of all that you know and love is fully within your hands."  
  
As Legolas thought rapidly as to what to do, one small thought entered his mind. How had Maeglin managed to get here before him? He knew that he had been at the front of the contingent and thus not in the attack from the goblins, but Legolas had not taken that much of a roundabout way, at the very most Maeglin should have arrived at the same time Legolas had. For that matter, how had Maeglin known Legolas had been set back by a goblin attack when he had not been there?  
  
Legolas lost touch with his immediate surroundings. He felt as though something in his mind was opening and he began to see several pictures in rapid succession. He saw them entering the southern end of Mirkwood forest, the darkest and most dangerous part of the forest.  
  
He again saw the dark forest that Maeglin had lived in through his single window. He remembered the dark cell he had awoken in. He saw the iron doors, the intricately carved sword used as mere decoration. He thought of Glorfindel, and the legend of the fall of Gondolin, Maeglin was the betrayer.  
  
The full legend of the fall of Gondolin started to unfold in his mind. He began to remember small details he had not been able to before. Small things he had been missing before started to make sense.  
  
Dark elves.....Moriquendi...the refusers.....dark, always dark....standing before him now....dark alliance...Glorfindel.....Gondolin.....Morgoth....fell into shadow.  
  
Legolas' mind shattered.  
  
Everything fell into immediate place.  
  
Maeglin desired Mirkwood so because it was already threatened by shadows and a growing darkness. Maeglin would use that darkness, just as he used it before with the help of Morgoth and a corrupt alliance made with him. He was going to have the kingdom he had so desired many years ago, he was going to rule a kingdom of his own making.  
  
. Legolas lowered his bow.  
  
Maeglin saw the gesture of defeat and opened his mouth to say something with a knowing smile.  
  
Legolas did not give him the chance.  
  
"Tell me Lomion," Legolas began, using the elf lord's Quenyan name. "What do you plan with the people of Lake-town?"  
  
Maeglin blinked.  
  
"The men of Lake-town?" he repeated.  
  
Legolas nodded patiently. "Yes, the men that dwell very near here. What is your plan for them?"  
  
Maeglin's lip curled upward as if he had just caught the wind of something foul before it hastily lowered itself again. "The affairs of the second-born are no concern of mine," the dark elf lord answered as if choosing his words carefully.  
  
Legolas nodded thoughtfully. He was aware that all eyes were on him, even those who had their arrows drawn on his father. He knew that his line of questioning was not of anyone's expectance. Legolas sneaked a peek at his father. He too stared questioningly at Legolas, confusion barely written upon his brow.  
  
Legolas began to speak again. "Yet surely if you intend to restore all of Mirkwood they will be in your path. How else can you complete your plans?"  
  
Maeglin narrowed his eyes at Legolas. He looked as though he wished to leap off of the platform and go straight for the young elf prince, but he kept his posture rigid and his position in tact.  
  
Pulling his head up as he spoke, Maeglin answered, "I am confident that I will be able to restore Mirkwood without any obstacles."  
  
A ghost of a smile pulled at Legolas' lips. That was exactly the answer he wanted. "And if Lake-town proves to be an obstacle," he asked slowly as if very deep in thought, "what then?"  
  
"I do not fear that they will be," Maeglin sounded as though he was speaking through his teeth.  
  
Legolas nodded. "You will expect that they will abandon their land without a struggle."  
  
"If they favor their petty existence," Maeglin answered without hesitation.  
  
There were a few small cries at this answer and Legolas let his glance slide to see elves now heatedly whispering among each other, mostly elves that were of Maeglin's people.  
  
Before Legolas brought his gaze back to Maeglin, he caught sight of Glorfindel. The fair-haired elf was looking straight at Legolas, and he was smiling. His eyes were lit as if from a fire within and he looked as though his body was taut and waiting for some sort of signal. He gave a small nod to the younger elf, and Legolas knew for sure he was on the right path.  
  
Legolas locked his bright eyes back onto the dark ones of the elf lord. "Will it end with Lake-town?" he almost asked in a whisper.  
  
"As I said," Maeglin answered back in a tightly controlled voice, "I will not allow any obstacles to stand in my way."  
  
Legolas cocked an eyebrow. "That is not what you said." Before letting Maeglin say anymore, Legolas widened his stance and turned, taking in the whole room as he spoke, though focusing most of his attention near the front where Maeglin's guards were.  
  
"Has he shared his full plan with any of you? He does not wish to restore Mirkwood, and you know it as well as I do. He will not end here, but will spread over the lands like a plague, using you as his army."  
  
"He promised us a safe realm to ourselves to dwell within, one free of the second-born and the problems of the outside world," one elf spoke up. He was looking up at Meaglin as he spoke, a frown starting to cross his face.  
  
"Then why does he choose one so close to the humans?" Legolas pressed. "It is not a safe realm he is after, but one that is already struggling with the darkness."  
  
Several elves now looked doubtful, but Legolas knew it would take a lot more convincing before he could do anything more drastic. A new idea came to him, he had never heard any of his people call him by the name of Maeglin, even Glorfindel called him Lomion. Perhaps he underestimated the intelligence of his people.  
  
"How can you follow Lomion?" Legolas let a small pause fall before continuing, "Or rather, how can you follow Maeglin, the betrayer of Gondolin? He made a dark alliance before, how can you trust he will not again?"  
  
From the looks that the elves held now, he knew that he had just given them new information. Had they truly not known? It had not once crossed his mind that they did not know of his true identity. He had assumed they were all in on it together, and he had not doubted that until his later conversations with Eirien. This revelation to them clinched the thoughts that had been growing in Legolas' mind and gave him a shred of hope.  
  
Arguing broke out amongst the elves, mostly the Moriquendi. Legolas heard several phrases, most of them containing the words 'Maeglin' and 'dead' and even a few talking about Glorfindel. But Legolas was not paying attention to any of that.  
  
The look in Meaglin's eyes was pure murder. Legolas almost blanched when he returned to the elf lord's gaze, but he kept his resolve. Suddenly dread filled him. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that Maeglin knew exactly what he was trying to do. And he would not allow Legolas to do it.  
  
Something in the back of Legolas' mind noticed that Maeglin once again held the small leather pouch he had had when Glorfindel had returned Legolas to the caves. That same part of his mind noted the worry that had appeared in Glorfindel upon seeing the pouch and a sense of danger began to flood through to the rest of Legolas' mind.  
  
Amidst the unraveling of the other elves in the room, Legolas honed in on three things, Maeglin's eyes, his growing smile, and the hand holding the leather pouch. Almost as if an afterthought, Legolas looked a few measures off to the side, to his father who was still standing in his place, letting Legolas play out whatever card he had been holding. King Thranduil did not look particularly worried, in fact he was beginning to catch onto what Legolas was trying to do and thought his son had already accomplished it. The battle was over before it had begun.  
  
But Legolas noticed something else.  
  
His father was standing a few paces away from Maeglin . And everybody else's attention was now elsewhere, no longer paying any attention to the happenings on the platform.  
  
And King Thranduil was too close to the dark elf lord.  
  
With his leg still injured, Legolas would never make it in time.  
  
Legolas began to lift his bow just as Maeglin flicked his wrist and opened the pouch.  
  
He was too close, far too close to his father, even Legolas' arrow would never make it.  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to try to call out a warning, but even that would not come in time. Maeglin was an elf lord, he was too strong, too fast. Legolas felt like a clumsy mortal compared to him, and he saw his actions as if he was moving in slow motion.  
  
Too close, he was too close!  
  
Legolas had the arrow strung and the string taut just as Maeglin got out a handful of whatever was in the bag. All he had to do was reach out and touch Thranduil, and though Legolas had no idea what was in the bag, instinct told him he did not want it to encounter his father.  
  
By the time Legolas had an arrow strung, his father sensed that something was wrong and looked over. Yet even as he tried to step away from the elf beside him, Legolas knew he was too close, he was too late.  
  
Legolas let go of the arrow just as Maeglin's arm extended towards Thranduil. A small look of horror passed through Thranduil's features, he knew what was in the bag.  
  
Legolas' arrow never reached its mark.  
  
Author's Note Part Deux: I know, terrible cliff-hanger! Sorry, but I had to, don't kill me!  
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	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: Well, here we are again, another update, and it wasn't that bad of a wait, right? I mean, I'm posting this when I should be doing homework, so be happy! And now there's no need for angry mobs/warrior celery or other assorted vegetables/keyboard gnawing/imprisonment in an orc cell/and any other form of imaginative torture to get me to write. So yeah, enjoy another nice update provided by the one and only and I love you all for the reviews, even the death threats! P.S. Not Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 28  
  
Maeglin threw himself forward just as Legolas' arrow came straight for his chest, causing the arrow to skip harmlessly over his head. Legolas almost cried out in anguish, thinking he had been too late after all.  
  
But he choked back the cry. Maeglin had not leapt to the side and towards his father. He had merely jumped forward, and now he was standing still. Legolas looked over at his father who was now well away from the dark elf lord. He was untouched, Maeglin had not been given a chance to reach him.  
  
Confusion wound its way through Legolas, and he noted that the room had fallen silent once again as the other occupants took in the scene before them.  
  
Maeglin straightened up slowly, and it was only then that Legolas saw an arrow was imbedded into his side. And it was no wonder he had missed seeing it, for the arrow was in so deep that almost the entire shaft had gone through. Only somebody with a lot of strength could force that much power behind an arrow.  
  
The dark elf lord's face contorted into rage and he swung to face the left, his hand going for what was left of the arrow in his side. Legolas followed his gaze. Glorfindel was standing solidly off of the platform, his mighty bow still held firmly in his hands. When Maeglin met his gaze Glorfindel leapt lightly up onto the platform and started towards Maeglin.  
  
"Drop your weapons," he ordered as he walked, flicking his glance past Maeglin to the guards that flanked the other side. To Legolas' surprise, the elves immediately abandoned their bows. They looked slightly awed, and Legolas knew he likely looked the same. The power emanating from the two elf lords was almost palpable and the air between them was charged, for they were both angry.  
  
"I knew you could not possibly be that stupid," Maeglin growled at Glorfindel.  
  
Glorfindel arched a graceful eyebrow. "What, and give up a chance to avenge the horrible deeds done to my people many years ago? Why do you think I jumped at your invitation? It was I who was wary and thought you could not possibly be that stupid, but revenge without purpose is often blind."  
  
Legolas watched the two elf lords as they bantered back and forth. He realized that all else had been forgotten to them, he did not matter at the moment. And he would use it to his advantage. Thranduil had retreated to the far end of the platform, but he still stood upon it, unsure of how to penetrate through the elves that lined the outside. He was still too close for Legolas' comfort, and the young elf decided he could be most useful in getting his father away from the dark elf lord.  
  
Legolas started to move forward and to the side, wanting to avoid attracting either of the elf lord's attentions.  
  
Maeglin smiled at Glorfindel. "I see your visit to Mandos was not nearly long enough. Did all go well for you there? Or were your thoughts still twisted with images of the balrog?"  
  
Glorfindel paled slightly at the mention of the balrog. "I slayed that foul beast, and if I have to die to kill you as well so be it. Morgoth cannot protect you now."  
  
Maeglin smirked. "That is where you are wrong. We are closer to the darkness now, you are the one at the disadvantage here."  
  
"The grace of Elbereth is with me, I fear neither you nor the darkness." Glorfindel's voice held a noble quality to it that spoke of his power, and Legolas was slightly amazed that Maeglin did not cower before him now and beg forgiveness. Glorfindel's quiet rage was more disturbing than any rant Maeglin could pull.  
  
By this time, Legolas had reached the far side of the platform. None of the elves paid him any heed, their focus fixated on the two elf lords. Legolas gestured to get his father's attention.  
  
Thranduil looked down at him. "Get out of here Legolas," he whispered, "and take our people with you. Lead them into the safety of the trees, I will come to you after this is done."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "You can offer no help here, come with me now and we will all leave this place."  
  
"I cannot leave Lord Glorfindel alone with this monster," Thranduil whispered back.  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to argue more with his father, but paused when he looked over Thranduil's shoulder. At the mention of his name, Glorfindel had looked over, just for a second, but that was all the time Maeglin needed.  
  
The dark elf lord threw his arm up, and Legolas noted that his fist was still closed, he had never let go of the contents of the pouch.  
  
Glorfindel realized it too.  
  
The fair-haired elf snapped his head to the side and tried to duck, but his lost second of concentration had already cost him. Maeglin opened his palm and loosed a handful of fine white powder into Glorfindel's face.  
  
Glorfindel reacted instantly.  
  
He snorted forcibly in an effort not to inhale and covered his face with his hands as he dropped down. But the distance between the two of them had been too little and he could not prevent all of the powder from making its way into his system.  
  
Glorfindel staggered back and began to cough violently, his hands continuing to cover his face. Maeglin let out a small cry and followed up on him, landing a swift kick to Glorfindel's middle.  
  
Glorfindel doubled over, still coughing and trying to rid himself of the fast-working powder. But before he could even lower his hands from his face, Maeglin had kicked him again and the paler elf crashed to the ground.  
  
Glorfindel finally tore his hands from his face in time to see Maeglin advancing on him again, but he rolled to the side to avoid the blow. Even as he was able to avoid it, he could already feel his movements slowing due to the effects of the powder and he had to gasp to drag in a breath as he stood up. His lungs were starting to burn and he only hoped that he had not inhaled enough of it for it to prove to be fatal before the fight was over.  
  
Glorfindel gathered his feet underneath him and launched himself at Maeglin. They collided and both went down into a painful pile, yet Glorfindel could not press any sort of advantage. He blinked as his vision swam in front of him and Maeglin took the second of distraction to throw Glorfindel forcibly off of him. Glorfindel hit the floor a few feet away and did not move.  
  
Legolas gaped at what he was seeing. He still did not fully understand the powder and what its potency was, yet it was clearly affecting Glorfindel. Legolas had a small flashback to the time when Maeglin had gripped Legolas' arm. He had felt so much power in that grip, and even then he had wondered if even Glorfindel would be able to defeat him. Now that he was at a disadvantage, the fairer elf's chances seemed slim.  
  
Glorfindel raised his head and saw Maeglin advancing upon him, now with a dagger drawn. He knew that it was made of the black iron Maeglin loved to use and it would slice through his flesh with little to no resistance. He would have to avoid the blade.  
  
The elf lord pulled himself to his feet and drew his own weapon, a sword. It was longer than Maeglin's dagger and looked as though it would give him an advantage.  
  
Maeglin moved swiftly forward, thrusting his dagger in front of him as he did so.  
  
Glorfindel moved to counter it, and though his actions were slower than he was used to, he was able to parry the dagger with his sword. Yet he soon saw the error of his ways. That was exactly what Maeglin had wanted him to do. The stronger metal of the dagger had effectively cut through Glorfindel's sword, rendering it useless.  
  
Glorfindel wasted no time in lamenting over the broken blade. He threw it down and stood at a ready, waiting for Maeglin to make his move.  
  
Maeglin paused. He graced Glorfindel with a smile. "After all this time I get to finish what I started many years ago in Gondolin."  
  
Legolas could not stand by and watch this happen. Despite the uncertainty Glorfindel had been giving him, he could not simply watch him die now at the hands of the dark elf lord. Legolas leapt up onto the platform.  
  
"He condemns himself with his own words," Legolas shouted to the other elves. Yet he never got a chance to finish what he had planned to say. He underestimated the speed of Maeglin, and Legolas' life was no longer insured by whatever plan he held.  
  
Maeglin pivoted at the sound of Legolas' voice, and with hardly wasting any time, he unwound his arm and launched the dagger saved for Glorfindel straight at Legolas.  
  
Legolas hardly saw it coming, and was only able to close his lids halfway in preparation for the bite of the metal.  
  
But something else blocked his vision and fell before him and Legolas continued to stand still, his breath held. It was a few moments before he even realized that nothing had struck him. After the realization, he looked down at his feet, and was horrified to find his own father now sprawled upon the ground, the blade imbedded high upon his shoulder blade.  
  
Glorfindel looked over as well, and he saw the elven king throw himself forward in order to save his son. Glorfindel gasped when he saw the impact, that was not supposed to happen! The elf lord began to wonder whether he had gone the wrong way after all, but he shook the thoughts out of his head. He would worry about that later, right now he had one last chance.  
  
Maeglin had turned in order to throw the dagger, and he was still turned. Glorfindel drew himself together for one last desperate rush. This would likely be his last chance, he could feel the combined ingredients of the specially made cruel powder slicing into the soft tissues of his lungs.  
  
Glorfindel charged straight for the darker elf lord.  
  
Maeglin sensed the rush and turned to intercept it, but Glorfindel's desperation made him faster despite the powder.  
  
They collided and Maeglin fell back underneath Glorfindel, the fair- haired elf's momentum carrying them off of the platform. They fell together in a crash and the enraptured elves around them separated to give them more room. No elf would dare come between the two combating elf lords.  
  
There was no time for Glorfindel to even try to reach behind and grab a small dagger he had sheathed in the back of his belt, so he went for the one weapon that lay between the two, the leather pouch.  
  
Maeglin was momentarily stunned and Glorfindel was able to grab onto the pouch before Maeglin's grip tightened on it, but it was already open and Glorfindel grabbed with his other hand, withdrawing a handful of the powder. Before Maeglin even knew what was happening, Glorfindel covered the dark elf lord's mouth with his hand, forcing him to inhale the powder.  
  
The reaction was instantaneous.  
  
Maeglin jerked bodily and threw his weight to the side, effectively throwing Glorfindel off of him. He stood immediately and took a step forward, but then stopped uncertainly.  
  
He shook his head and coughed a few times, blinking suddenly watering eyes.  
  
He took a deep breath and straightened and then went towards Glorfindel again, but again he stopped. A fit of coughing overtook him and he gasped audibly as he struggled to breathe around the hoarse sounds coming from his mouth.  
  
Glorfindel stayed where he had fallen, leaning back onto his hands, merely watching. It was a grim satisfaction he held, watching his enemy suffer in front of him. He had finally completed his purpose, but he felt no sense of valor over the actions. He had hoped to perhaps avoid another kinslaying, but Maeglin had proved that it was the only means necessary.  
  
Legolas watched in morbid fascination as well. He could not tear his eyes off of the dark elf lord. Maeglin was almost doubled over, and the sounds of his coughing were enough to make Legolas' skin crawl. It was a deep rasping sound that seemed to come from the depths of the elf-lord, as if he was trying to expel some inner demon.  
  
Silence stretched throughout the room, save for the sound of the awful coughing. All of the elves watched, some in pity, some in disbelief. Yet none tried to help, even Maeglin's own men. They all merely watched, waiting for the inevitable.  
  
After what seemed like a horribly long time, Maeglin dropped to his knees. He put one hand down to the ground as an especially violent cough overtook him. When he raised his head once more, blood could be seen at the side of his mouth. Maeglin gave a quick smile that soon turned into a grimace.  
  
"One more chance," he croaked out in a voice that sounded as though it had been scraped raw. He raised his face to the ceiling overhead, "One more chance, Morgoth, that is all I ask, once more and I will not fail. The second-born will be eradicated, just as we willed it."  
  
Several elves glanced at each other. Others kept their stony gaze on their fallen lord. Maeglin continued to plead with an unseen force. "Just one more, we will have it, it will be ours, I beg you just one more chance."  
  
Legolas almost felt pity for the fallen elf lord. Almost.  
  
He was surprised when Maeglin suddenly looked over at him. They locked gazes and Legolas could almost feel the hate pouring from him. But Maeglin turned his eyes away and decided to spend his last moments on something more constructive. He turned to Glorfindel.  
  
For his part, Glorfindel was not trying to move at all. His breathing was labored and he had to clear his throat occasionally in order to rid himself of the coughing. He had not received a mouthful of the powder like Maeglin had, but he knew he had had enough. In perhaps an hours time, he knew he would go the way of Maeglin.  
  
Maeglin stared at him, dark menace in his eyes.  
  
"Go with the light of Elbereth," Glorfindel whispered to him.  
  
Maeglin spat at him. His spittle was flecked with blood and it caught Glorfindel on the cheek. Glorfindel did not bother to remove it.  
  
Slowly, the dark elf lord's body crumpled over. His forehead met the ground, followed by the rest of him until he lay stretched out on the stone floor. He held Glorfindel's gaze the whole time, and Glorfindel did likewise. Finally, the haggard breathing stopped and the piercing dark eyes began to dim. Maeglin lay completely still.  
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	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: Yes! Another timely update with a new chapter! (pats self on back) I've been doing so well! Okay, enough with the self-love, is Maeglin truly dead? Hmmmm..we'll just have to wait and see. And a thousand thanks to all my wonderful readers (gathers everyone for a big group hug) I've never had so much attention to a story and it makes me feel all special inside to know people are actually enjoying it, enough to threaten my life over the cliff-hangers, now that's REAL love. Alright then, enough chit-chat now, on to the story! P.S. not Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 29  
  
Time seemed to stop along with Maeglin. Nobody moved or made a sound, staring in morbid wonder at the sight of the now dead elf lord.  
  
The one who broke the stillness was Legolas.  
  
Finally being able to tear his eyes off of the still body of Maeglin, he knelt down to check his father. The blade had gone in deep, such had been the power behind it, but it had not hit a vital spot and not a lot of blood was coming from the wound. Legolas quickly checked his steady pulse and ascertained that his breath was coming easily and freely. Thranduil appeared to be fine, or would be as soon as he was taken to a healer.  
  
Legolas lifted his head to scan the crowd of assembled elves. He called out to the few guards that were there to take his father out of the Grand Hall and to the healing room. The guards readily stepped forward to comply, but stopped right before the platform.  
  
Maeglin's warriors were still standing there.  
  
They had thrown down their weapons at Glorfindel's order, but had not moved from their position and were now looking warily at the Mirkwood guards who were trying to make their way through. They looked uncertain as to whether to take their arms back up again or not, but Legolas noticed that if they did his own people did not have any weapons at all. Even if Maeglin was dead, there was still a threat to his people.  
  
"If you leave these lands now you will not be prosecuted," Legolas called out to Maeglin's people. He was unsure of how they would react, but a small number of the dark haired elves turned to exit the room. However, a larger number remained.  
  
Legolas tried again, "Your lord is dead, if you wish to return to your own homelands and live freely without charge you can. If you stay you shall be treated as a prisoner of war."  
  
Legolas was aware that it was partially an empty threat. If the dark haired elves decided to finish their lord's fight, the consequences against the people of Mirkwood could prove disastrous.  
  
The elves still seemed uncertain and shifted uneasily on their feet until one of them spoke up. He was in the center of the group of those nearest to the platform, and Legolas pegged him for one who held a high position.  
  
"Remember Maeglin's will," he called out, "he wanted the forest to be saved."  
  
"Do not be foolish," a voice spoke up. All turned to Glorfindel who was still sitting in the same position in front of Maeglin. He still held an imposing air however and everybody felt forced to heed his words.  
  
"Maeglin was a traitor in every sense of the word. He had no feelings for you or the Mirkwood forest. His only wish was to control a large realm so that he may enlarge it and kill off the second-born of Middle-Earth. He was going to use you to help him destroy all of man."  
  
The elves now looked extremely uncertain, but Legolas could tell that it was going to take more prompting in order to have them leave peacefully. As Legolas tried to think of something else to say, Glorfindel cocked his head to one side, as if listening thoughtfully.  
  
"And I suggest you leave now," he said in a strong voice, "before reinforcements arrive."  
  
Now everybody turned to listen. Glorfindel spoke the truth, the faint sound of many approaching hoof beats could be heard. Legolas was unsure as to who it could be, but Glorfindel was smiling softly as if he knew very well who it was. Slowly, the dark haired elves began to depart.  
  
The group that stood next to the platform still stood, though they wavered in their stance. "And how can we trust what you speak is the truth?" the same elf who had spoken up before asked.  
  
Glorfindel turned his head so that his bright blue eyes were upon him. "Your days of being deceived are over," he said softly, "and if you wish to enjoy your freedom I suggest that you leave now."  
  
The authority and sincerity in Glorfindel's voice was enough to make the rest of the elves turn and hurry out of the room. The elf of position lingered a few moments longer, staring at his fallen elf lord, as if willing him to get up and call all of his men back, that it was truly Glorfindel who was lying after all.  
  
But Maeglin did not move, and finally with a soft curse that was the result of broken pride and sadness more than menace, the elf too turned and exited the room hurriedly.  
  
As if they had been waiting for their signal, Thranduil's guards surged forward and gently lifted their fallen king. They carried him carefully out of the room and towards the healing room with most of the Sindarin elves following the small caravan to see to the welfare of their king.  
  
Legolas stood as well, meaning to go with also, but he paused. He turned slowly and stared at Glorfindel, who looked as though he had just used up the last of his strength and was lying down.  
  
After a brief pause, Legolas went to him and knelt at his side. He wanted to say something, but was unsure of what.  
  
Glorfindel met his gaze and smiled softly. "I am sorry to have put you through all of that, young prince."  
  
Legolas frowned slightly. The elf lord's voice was a lot weaker than what it had been a moment ago when reasoning with the Moriquendi.  
  
"I did not see," Legolas murmured. He did not have to explain what he meant, Glorfindel understood and smiled again.  
  
"I had to keep you confused, else Maeglin would have found out through you. Yet I truly do regret one thing, and if it could have turned out any differently I would have fought hard for it to end that way." Glorfindel's eyes strayed down to the wound in Legolas' thigh and Legolas understood that he was sorry for returning Legolas to Maeglin.  
  
"I could only strike when his focus was entirely off of me," Glorfindel continued, desperation entering his voice. "Until tonight he always kept a portion of his mind with me, for he was shrewd and untrusting of me. He planned to use me to help him defeat Mirkwood and then kill me, likely from the back. He was a coward."  
  
Legolas was slightly confused at the sudden intensity of his voice until realization came to him. Glorfindel wanted Legolas to understand, he wanted a clear conscience. He also sounded as though he wanted to say all that he had to say right at the moment, as if he would be unable to do so later.  
  
"Is it that bad?" Legolas questioned softly.  
  
Once again Glorfindel did not bother to ask what he meant. "Enough of it came through to slay me. I only hope that I did not make as many mistakes as I think with this mission and that Mandos will be forgiving."  
  
Sadness filtered into Legolas, and he found that he would be greatly disturbed if Glorfindel were to die. Even if he had been unsure if Glorfindel was on his side or not, there was no doubt in his mind now and Legolas realized the huge sacrifice Glorfindel had made for him and his people. He could very easily not have bothered with the whole of things and left Mirkwood on its own, yet he had chosen to help and to fight against the same foe that had already been responsible for his death before.  
  
Legolas carefully covered the elf lord's hand in his own, and was comforted slightly when Glorfindel received his hand and squeezed it. Legolas was suddenly aware of tears in his eyes, and he was unsure of whether to feel shame for displaying emotional weakness in front of Glorfindel.  
  
Yet Glorfindel again smiled at him. "All is well young elf," he said, "if this task was the only reason for me to come back then this was the only way it could have turned out. We cannot question nor feel responsible for the actions of the Valar."  
  
Legolas nodded at the sensibility of the words, yet it did little to comfort him. He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against their entwined hands, fighting to regain control of his emotions and be strong for Glorfindel.  
  
The sound of the doors opening broke Legolas out of his revelry and he snapped to attention, bringing his head up to face the entrance. He had almost forgotten where they were and stared out in surprise at the elves that still remained in the hall, forlornly watching the exchange between the elf lord and the young prince. Yet now they too turned to face the doors and see who had come to interrupt them.  
  
To Legolas' surprise, many armed Mrikwood warriors came pouring in at a fast rate, as if they were expecting a battle inside of the hall. They stopped uncertainly when they saw that nothing was happening in the room and looked about for some sort of explanation.  
  
But Legolas did not bother to give one to them just yet. He was still watching the doors, for elves were still coming in, but they were not of his people. They had dark hair and dark features, but were unlike the Moriquendi. And then he knew, they were Noldor elves from Rivendell. Briefly Legolas remembered overhearing Maeglin talk of sending the elves in the wrong direction towards Rivendell, but he had underestimated their speed. They had come almost as soon as they had realized that something was wrong, and in strong numbers, ready to back Mirkwood.  
  
They had been the reinforcements Glorfindel had warned the Moriquendi of.  
  
The elves finally stopped moving in, all their numbers now held inside of the Grand Hall, and Legolas was surprised at just how large the number was. There was not as many as the Moriquendi, but they would have proven to be a formidable foe had the dark elves chosen to stay behind and fight.  
  
Legolas was about to turn away when one more figure stepped into the room. He was clothed in traditional warrior clothing, but the thin circlet upon his brow gave away his heritage. Lord Elrond had come to Mirkwood as well.  
  
Legolas stood immediately as Elrond strode soundlessly towards him and Glorfindel. He bowed in respect, but Elrond waved the formalities off, his attention fixed on Glorfindel.  
  
"What happened here?" he asked in a soft voice that still held the strong note of power.  
  
"Galvorn powder," was all Glorfindel said. It was all that needed to be said.  
  
Elrond nodded once. "I am familiar with it," he muttered and then turned to two elves who had flanked him as he moved forward. "Come, let us move Lord Glorfindel to the healing rooms and see what can be done."  
  
The two elves stepped forward immediately and bent to move Glorfindel, but Glorfindel waved them off. "It will be of no use," he protested.  
  
Elrond raised a graceful eyebrow, "I will decide that, now be quiet great one or I shall be forced to silence you myself."  
  
Legolas stood silently listening and felt aghast at the light manner of Elrond in what he thought was a dire situation.  
  
Elrond began to turn to lead the way to the rooms of healing when he caught notice of Legolas and his wide gaze. He developed a somber expression almost immediately and said to Legolas, "I will do what I can, and if Elbereth is with us, he will pull through. There is a chance and we shall know for sure by the time of tomorrow's sunset." He glanced down briefly before meeting Legolas' eyes again. "And I would suggest that you see to yourself and make your way down to the healing rooms as well."  
  
He began to walk away, "I will keep you posted," he called as he walked, "but haste is our only friend now." And then he was gone, the two elves carrying Glorfindel closely following him.  
  
Legolas was left standing uncertainly until he realized that other elves were still in the room. "Return to your homes for now," Legolas called out, "you will be kept informed on the condition of Lord Glorfindel and King Thranduil."  
  
Several elves bowed and turned to make their way out of the room, followed slowly by the warriors who still looked as though they were expecting a fight. One elf stopped before Legolas.  
  
"My lord," he said quietly, "would you like an escort to the healing room?"  
  
Legolas recognized him as Elderein, one of his father's advisors. The flesh beneath his eye looked discolored and ready to bruise, the testament to rough treatment from the dark elves when they had first reached Mirkwood.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I will be alright friend," he told him, "I need a few moments to myself before I seek aid."  
  
Elderein nodded and bowed slightly before turning and following the last of the elves out. Legolas was soon alone in the room and he let out a long sigh. The past few hours had been very trying and he was undoubtedly glad that his nightmare was over. Or, it will be, Legolas corrected himself, as soon as Elrond gives the word that Glorfindel is well.  
  
Legolas started to make his own way out of the large room until he was stopped by an object caught in his peripheral vision.  
  
Legolas turned to regard the still unmoving form of Maeglin. He was almost certain that the dark elf lord lay dead, yet he could not bring himself any closer to check for a pulse. After a brief hesitation, Legolas decided he would send in others to see to the body later.  
  
Legolas watched the dark elf lord for a few moments. He was unpleasantly reminded of all the grievances he had suffered at the hand of the elf lord and Legolas could not suppress a small shudder that passed through him.  
  
Wanting to spend no more time alone in the same room as the elf lord even if he was dead, Legolas walked as quickly as he could to the exit. He would leave the Grand Hall and see to a healer and then he would appoint somebody else to watch over things. He knew that he himself was too exhausted to deal with everything at the moment and could only guess at when Thranduil would be able to regain control. Perhaps he would be able to catch up with Elderein and let him take care of everything.  
  
Legolas' thoughts were so concentrated on getting to the healing rooms and seeking out help that he did not notice the figure waiting for him as he stepped out of the doors and into the darkness of the night.  
  
A hand came out and grabbed Legolas by the back of the neck before throwing him against the palace wall.  
  
Legolas grunted as his breath left him on the impact and before he could push off of the wall he felt a cold blade at his throat.  
  
"Thought you got away with it all?" a familiar voice sneered at him.  
  
Legolas focused his blurry gaze on the one holding him back. It was Eirien. 


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: And yet another chapter, boy, this story is long eh? Oh well, a few people seem to like it so whatcha gonna do? Anyways, hehe, yes, poor Legolas just can't seem to get a break. Just when you think it's finally all over, bam, something else to torment him with. It makes for entertaining reading anyway. And yes, I love being able to continually surprise and frustrate you all, and the death threats are also highly entertaining. So yeah, still love you all and still am not the reincarnation of Tolkien, so here we go, another chapter!  
  
Chapter 30  
  
Legolas wasted no time as soon as he realized who it was holding a dagger to his throat. He was tired and equally tired of her and did not wish to be held back any longer than necessary. Lifting a hand up with lightening speed, Legolas grabbed the hand with the dagger and pulled it to the side while pushing off of the wall at the same time.  
  
Eirien cried out as she stumbled away from Legolas and he wrenched painfully on her wrist, causing her to drop the knife. Yet before Legolas could bend to retrieve it, he caught a well-aimed kick high up on his thigh, right over his wound. Legolas ground his teeth in pain and viciously swung out with his right arm, catching Eirien on the side of her head as she ducked to grab the knife.  
  
She backed away from him after the blow, but she had already managed to grab onto the dagger. She now held it in front of her, swinging it slowly as she steadied her stance.  
  
Legolas stood still, carefully balancing his weight on his good leg without letting it appear like he was. "Why are you doing this?" he asked her.  
  
"To finish what my Lord had started," she practically spit at him, "it was my task to kill you in the end."  
  
Legolas arched an eyebrow. "And you think you can handle such a task?"  
  
Her response was a wild swipe at him with the knife that he was easily able to avoid. Legolas took a closer look at her, she was swaying even as she stood still and he could make out the faint tracks of tears on her face.  
  
"You do know Maeglin is dead?" Legolas asked.  
  
Eirien grounded out a sound that could only be described as a growl. "His name is Lomion," she spoke through her teeth.  
  
Legolas shook his head, "No, he was a cowardly villain who betrayed both sets of his people. His own words condemned him tonight. He cared nothing for you or anybody else."  
  
Eirien staggered as she briefly put her free hand to the side of her head. "You speak nothing but lies," she whispered softly. "He loved me, he would have died for me."  
  
Legolas was almost taken aback by her revelation. "All that you were to him was another to do his bidding," he said quietly.  
  
"Damn you," she fairly screamed, lifting her head and pulling her hand away from her face, "you know nothing of what you speak."  
  
"I know more than you. I know who Lomion really was, the betrayer of Gondolin and ally to Morgoth."  
  
Eirien's response was another wild slash, but this time Legolas was able to grab her arm and he gracelessly threw her down to the ground. Taking care to keep his injured leg out of her reach, Legolas knelt and pinned her motionless. "Listen to me," he said carefully, "your Lord is dead. If you wish, you may leave now and never return. You will have my pardon."  
  
Eirien smirked at him. "Ever noble princeling," she taunted him, and almost as an afterthought she added, "and Lomion is not dead."  
  
"He lays slain in the Grand Hall right now," Legolas told her coldly.  
  
Eirien closed her eyes, "No, I saw him throw the powder at Glorfindel. It was enough to finish him."  
  
"His own powder killed him," Legolas replied.  
  
Eirien re-opened her eyes and Legolas could see the fierceness in them even in the dark. "Nothing can kill him," she said tautly.  
  
Deciding he had enough of her denial, Legolas stood and pulled her with him. He then turned and started back into the hall. Eirien sensed the purpose behind his efforts and dug in her heels fighting to hang back. Legolas only pulled harder and they both stumbled into the Grand Hall.  
  
"There," Legolas pushed her forward in front of him so that she could have an unobstructed view of the still form of Maeglin. "He is dead."  
  
Eirien stumbled to her knees when Legolas pushed her and she stayed down in that position, merely staring forward, her eyes wide. After a few moments of silence, she shook her head and looked down, "No, it is not possible. He had the protection of the Valar."  
  
"He had the protection of Morgoth, you mean," Legolas corrected, "and only that for as long as he proved to be useful."  
  
"Your lies again," Eirien muttered, but she continued to keep her gaze on her fallen lord, not even taking notice of Legolas standing behind her.  
  
"If you were in here to see him throw the powder at Glorfindel then you must have heard what he said. He gave himself away with his own words."  
  
Eirien finally turned to look at Legolas over her shoulder. "I heard you twisting your own and trying to make my Lord appear as though he were in the wrong."  
  
Legolas had had it. "Have you always lived this blind?" he asked casually, "Is that why you thought him to love you?"  
  
Eirien pushed herself off of the floor and lunged at him, but once again there was little menace in her actions and Legolas caught both of her wrists, holding her still. He was shocked to see tears in her eyes as she faced him and was almost moved to pity.  
  
"He took me in when no other would," she insisted, her voice cracking.  
  
Legolas frowned, and then said softly, "That was only because he wished to use you."  
  
Eirien tore out of his grip and stumbled away, but she did not try to come at him again. She stood uncertainly, turned so that she could see both Maeglin and Legolas. Her breath was ragged and her eyes shining with unspilled tears. To Legolas it seemed as though she were weighing her options, whatever she thought they were.  
  
"You could go back to your own people," Legolas prompted softly.  
  
"They all went across the sea," Eirien spat at him. "They gave up this place easily. We are the first-born, why should we be the ones to leave?"  
  
"It is not a matter of giving up Middle-Earth," Legolas told her, "It is a gift to us from the Eldar to be able to cross over the sea, when we grow weary of our years here."  
  
"I will not let them win," Eirien muttered.  
  
Legolas softened his voice, "There is no battle to be won."  
  
Eirien took a deep breath and hung limply when she let it out. She stood still for a few moments before taking some hesitant steps forward. Legolas watched silently as she made her way over to where Maeglin had fallen.  
  
Once she had reached him, she slowly knelt down at his side and carefully reached out a hand to touch the side of his face. With a shudder, she drew it back and let her head drop. Then she merely sat.  
  
Legolas was unsure of what to do. He did not wish to say anything to her, yet he did not want to remain in this place and he could not leave her alone. He wanted to know that she was gone and out of Mirkwood. He would not bother to take her prisoner, he would be content to have her exiled.  
  
Yet he could not tell her to leave right at the moment.  
  
Though he knew both Maeglin and Eirien to be twisted individuals, the sight before him was enough to move anybody to pity.  
  
Eirien sat completely still, never taking her eyes off of her lord's face. Her eyes traced the lines of blood that had come from his mouth with an intensity that suggested that she wanted to memorize every detail. Gone was the fire and menace she normally held, now she appeared to be merely empty, a shell of herself.  
  
Despite all that had happened to him, Legolas found his own heart softening and the hate he held towards her subsiding. She had been led astray by Maeglin, that much was no secret, her path could have easily turned a different way.  
  
Legolas was slightly startled when she suddenly stood without any warning. She turned directly to face Legolas and Legolas could not help but notice the dagger clutched tightly in her hand. Was she going to try to fulfill her final task after all? Legolas still held qualms over fighting her and kin slaying, but he had not just come through all of this to be killed now.  
  
Legolas readied himself for an attack. He widened his stance and was ever-mindful of the constant throbbing in his thigh.  
  
But Eirien made no such move towards him. She stood tall, her chest heaving, her fist tightly holding the hilt of the dagger.  
  
Legolas was confused and her lack of movement only heightened his anxiety.  
  
Eirien locked eyes with his, and she stared hard at him, as if trying to see right through him.  
  
What is she planning to do? Legolas found himself wondering.  
  
Finally, she moved quickly, and Legolas found himself reacting just as quickly, but he was too far away, and too slow.  
  
"No!" he called out.  
  
But he was too slow.  
  
Eirien raised the dagger to her own throat, right underneath the left side of her jaw. She dug in deeply before wrenching it all the way to the other side, effectively slicing her own throat.  
  
Legolas moved forward and reached her just as her body fell to the floor. He had meant to reach out to catch her, but he hesitated at the last moment, and only stood still, watching as she gave way before him, falling backwards over Maeglin.  
  
Her eyes were continuing to stare up at him, and her chest heaved once more upwards before becoming still. Slowly, her eyes dimmed.  
  
And Legolas still stood.  
  
He looked down upon the two of them, both dead. He felt as though he should be feeling some forms of pity or sadness, but there was only emptiness inside of him, a void created by the knowledge that justice had been satisfied, but at a horrible price.  
  
Legolas turned and carefully walked away. Without the aid of adrenaline, his leg was beginning to bother him even more.  
  
Slowly, Legolas made his way to the healing rooms.  
. 


	31. Chapter 31

Author's Note: I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow but I thought, what the hey, so you get it a day early! Yea! Oh, and a HUGE thanks to 'G' for pointing out a glaring error in my story, I already fixed it and am still beating myself over the head for making such a stupid error. Don't know why in the world I mixed those up.anyways, here it is, another chapter ! And oh yeah, not even remotely related to Tolkien so whatever.  
  
Chapter 31  
  
A week's time slowly crawled by, the bulk of which Legolas spent lying down. His leg wound had proven to be more serious than he had anticipated and the healer would not stand for Legolas being up and about. But Legolas could not say he wholly minded the orders too much, he relished the rest.  
  
On the day after both Maeglin and Eirien died, Thranduil had come to Legolas. Legolas was situated comfortably in his bed, his leg cleaned and wrapped thoroughly, and gazing out of the bright window into the well- tended gardens.  
  
Legolas turned his head toward the door when he heard it open and smiled in welcome when he saw his father standing in the doorway. Thranduil stepped into the room and closed the door behind him before coming to sit on the edge of the bed. He was smiling as well and appeared as though a large weight had just been lifted from his shoulders.  
  
"I am very glad to see you home once again," Thranduil said after a moment's silence. Legolas broadened his smile and grabbed onto the hand his father extended toward him. Legolas could just make out the white edging of bandaging that was wrapped around his father's shoulder underneath his tunic, and his smile darkened.  
  
Thranduil caught the slight change in expression and guessed well at its cause. "There is no reason for you to feel any responsibility at all for any of this."  
  
"If I had merely paid more attention to our surroundings when we had gone on that hunting trip," Legolas started but was interrupted by his father.  
  
"Then Maeglin would still be alive and still plotting something, perhaps something that would have turned out even worse. As it was this way, a battle was avoided and many lives spared. You saved a lot of bloodshed my son." Thranudil's voice was clam and soothing and Legolas felt his own mood lift.  
  
They both sat silent for a few moments and Legolas' gaze once again wandered back over to the window. He felt he would never take the sight of the trees outside and the warmth of the sun for granted again.  
  
"How fares Glorfindel?" Legolas suddenly asked quietly.  
  
"Lord Elrond has been attending to him non-stop since the incident. He has pulled through the worst of it and Elrond is hopeful for the best."  
  
Legolas nodded, still looking out of the window. Another question came to him and this time he turned to his father, "Did you know what that powder was?"  
  
Thranduil nodded gravely. "I had only heard tales of it and thought it to be a myth, but from what Lord Elrond has told me, Maeglin made it very much real. It is a mix of dried herbs and crushed plants that are grated very fine. But the most potent ingredient is that of small particles of galvorn that has been mixed in as well. It is the black iron that cuts into your insides once inhaled. It proves to be most effective, as you now know."  
  
"Black iron," Legolas repeated softly. The galvorn was the black metal Legolas had seen so much of when being held by Maeglin. It seemed very fitting, Maeglin's love had been his death.  
  
"And the rest of the Avari?" Legolas asked.  
  
"They left Mirkwood when Glorfindel prompted them to. No word has been heard of them since. Hopefully without a leader they will merely disperse and go back to their original colonies."  
  
"They do not wish to leave Middle-Earth," Legolas said.  
  
Thranudil nodded. "That is why they are called the refusers or unwilling," he shrugged, "it is how they feel and we cannot affect that. We can only wish that if they choose on remaining they can do so peacefully."  
  
Legolas once again turned to the window. He felt as though he had a million more questions to ask, but he held his tongue. He did not particularly feel like speaking at the moment, even to his own father.  
  
Thranduil noted the silence and understood.  
  
He stood lightly off of the bed before reaching down to rest his hand on Legolas' shoulder. He squeezed it lightly as he spoke, "Rest easy my son, Valar knows you deserve it after all you have been put through. Simply remember the worst is all over and you have done the best you could. Few have accomplished what you have, and you will be recognized as a hero at a formal celebration next week when all has settled down."  
  
Thranduil hoped that the news of a celebration specifically for Legolas would brighten his mood, but he was slightly disappointed when Legolas only flashed him a brief smile. Not wishing to disturb his rest any longer than necessary, Thranduil quietly exited the room and softly closed the door on his way out.  
  
Legolas looked over when he heard the door shut. "Glorfindel is more of a hero than I," he commented softly to the empty room before once again turning his bright eyes to the open window.  
  
Thranduil's proclaimed celebration in honor of his son came to take place faster than Legolas anticipated. Indeed time as a whole seemed to pass swifter when one was not confined.  
  
Legolas was dressed in some of the finest clothing he owned, and he almost blanched when he saw himself in the mirror. The outfit resembled that of the one the Moriquendi had mockingly dressed him in with silver coloring.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and reminded himself that those days were now behind him, they should hold no effect over him any longer. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Legolas walked out of his room and down to the Grand Hall where the feast was to be held.  
  
Elves greeted him as he came out of his room and he was escorted to the Hall. He was to be announced formally when he walked in, everybody else was already there. As Legolas followed his escorts, he thought dismally over why his father chose to have the celebration in the Grand Hall. Of course it was the only room large enough to hold everybody, but considering the circumstances Legolas would have much rather had it held outdoors underneath the trees and stars.  
  
The doors were pushed open for him and Legolas walked in the Grand Hall amidst cheers and applause, yet he hardly heard any of it. The minute the doors were opened his eyes were fixed on the one spot before the platform where both Maeglin and Eirien had fallen. The spot had been immaculately cleaned of course, but Legolas had a distinct feeling that he would never be able to look at it again without seeing the blood of the two elves mixed upon the floor.  
  
Passively, Legolas was marched up straight to the platform where he ascended to stand next to his father and acknowledge the cheering of his people. On the outside, he stood proudly and bowed to the applause like a true prince and hero should, on the inside his mind was elsewhere.  
  
He paused when he spotted Lord Elrond standing with the Noldor elves near the front. They had stayed in order to attend the celebration. Elrond had been in to see to Legolas when he had been resting of course and had administered herbs to his leg wound so that it may heal faster. And Legolas accredited the fact that he could now stand easily upon his leg and without pain to Elrond, and though he was grateful to Elrond and pleased to see him in attendance, Legolas did not see the one he was searching for.  
  
Glorfindel was nowhere in sight.  
  
Elrond had assured him later in the week that Glorfindel had recovered and was as well as he could be, but that he would be leaving Mirkwood soon. Legolas had hoped he would have another chance to speak with Glorfindel before he left, but apparently he had already gone. The fact was disquieting to Legolas.  
  
All throughout the feast Legolas could not concentrate. He smiled and acknowledged those when he should and he even ate the delicious food placed before him where he sat at the head of the table. But he tasted none of it and he did not hear the new tales about his heroic deeds put into song that the minstrels sang.  
  
When the evening was halfway over, Legolas pleaded exhaustion and excused himself and he left the room with the noise of raucous applause following him. It seemed as though his people truly thought him to be a hero, he thought to himself as he walked away. If only they knew of his many failures during his capture, then they would not think him to be so grand.  
  
As he passed out of the Hall, he had every intention of going straight to his room and gaining some rest. Creating a façade of heroism was more draining than he had thought.  
  
Yet as he turned to go to his room, he paused. Making a sudden decision, he reversed his direction and instead walked outside of the palace and into the soft darkness outside. He had not been outside since the night when Eirien had grabbed him from behind.  
  
Legolas walked silently as he made his way to the huge gardens that grew within the borders of Mirkwood. It was a favorite place of his and he knew it would be abandoned as everybody else was still inside, enjoying the festivities that continued.  
  
Legolas paused right before he reached the gardens. The soft sound of singing came to his ears, but it was not of the same type that was going on inside of the Hall. It was a lament, and no sounds of joy or valor could be found within it. Curious, Legolas stepped forward and towards the sound.  
  
He looked to his right, and there seated on a small stone bench before a clear pond was Glorfindel.  
  
Legolas stood respectfully where he was until Glorfindel's song was over. He did not wish to interrupt. When the elf lord ceased his singing, Legolas felt he wanted to say something, but was once again unsure as of what to say. Yet even though Legolas was standing silently behind him and off to the side, Glorfindel looked over his shoulder when his song was completed at Legolas and beckoned him to come closer. Legolas readily complied.  
  
Glorfindel moved a little to the side when Legolas reached him and Legolas sat down gingerly. He felt awed by the close presence of Glorfindel, for he was no longer holding anything back and his aura was almost tangible in its power. Legolas immediately understood that Glorfindel had been working under a huge pretense in order to fool Maeglin.  
  
Glorfindel glanced over at Legolas and smiled faintly. "Maeglin's perception was so sharp he could all but read minds," Glorfindel guessed correctly at the awed look on the younger elf's face, "I had to keep everything tightly withdrawn inside of myself so as not to alert him to what I really had planned."  
  
"And what was your plan all along?" The question was out before Legolas gave himself proper time to think. He felt abashed as soon as he heard himself say it, not sure if the older elf would think it to be disrespectful.  
  
But Glorfindel only smiled again and turned so that he was facing Legolas fully. "I assumed you held many questions. I am sorry I was unable to ever tell you more of what was happening, but as I have said before, Maeglin would have picked up on it. He was especially suspicious after the first night I came to see you, even though I did not tell you anything of import then, and I am most sorry to say that it was his suspicion that led me to betray you back to him. That is the one deed I truly regret, but it was the only way to assuage Maeglin for at least the moment. He was very wary of myself, and I knew he was contemplating killing me before we even reached Mirkwood. If I wished to have any sort of advantage over him, I had to be the first to attack." Glorfindel paused, "Do you understand?"  
  
Legolas nodded slowly. He did understand, and from a strategic standpoint it was the only thing Glorfindel could have done. Yet he still felt he needed the entire story, only then would he be able to trust Glorfindel completely.  
  
Glorfindel read this in Legolas' expression and gave a small nod. "I will tell you the entire story, though it is too lengthy for complete detail."  
  
Glorfindel took a small breath and paused to look up at the bright stars before continuing. "Maeglin first contacted me around fifty years ago. Imagine my surprise when the betrayer of Gondolin asked for my help. At first I could not understand why he would request such a thing, or even how he was still alive. He could not have possibly gone through the Halls of Mandos, for Mandos would have never permitted him to return to Middle- Earth, at least not so soon. So I came to the conclusion that though he had died when Tuor overthrew him, his spirit had remained and with the help of Morgoth with whom he had forged his dark alliance, he was able to return to his body and heal in time.  
  
"Yet I digress from my story. I knew that he knew I had died while slaying the balrog, so I imagined that he thought my memory of my first life had not yet returned to me. He was a very greedy individual and he wished revenge on all those who had wronged him. As it was, I was the only one left from the Fall of Gondolin, so he thought it best to first use me and then betray me again to another death. My assumption of him proved to be correct when I agreed to meet up with him. He is not as sly as he imagines himself to be when blinded by vengeance.  
  
"I knew he still held to his alliance with Morgoth even though Morgoth himself had been overthrown, and I knew that his lack of love for the second-born was what drove his ambitions. When he began to speak of the darkness in Mirkwood and to turn the Avari who had joined with him against the Silvan elves, it did not take me long to guess at his plans. He still longed to rule his own kingdom, and he used the Avari's desire to stay upon Middle-Earth to lead them to believe that if they 'saved' Mirkwood from the Silvan elves who were encouraging the darkness, they could have their own realm to dwell in for the rest of their days while the rest of the world changed around them.  
  
"And as you know he formulated a plan against Mirkwood that involved capturing its prince to use against his own father into surrendering the kingdom. For my part, I could only convince Maeglin that I was on his side and then strike when his thoughts were completely gone from me. That happened when you spoke with him in the Hall and revealed his true intentions to the Moriquendi." Glorfindel paused here and gave Legolas a smile, "I was surprised to hear that you had figured him out as well, and you had given me an opening to finally try to take down Maeglin. I underestimated the role you would play in this, you far surpassed my expectations."  
  
Legolas took in all that Glorfindel had just told him. Especially the last part. He slowly realized that Glorfindel thought him to be a hero as well, and that thought made the nagging guilt that had been eating inside of him to let up somewhat.  
  
"I could have done so much more," Legolas said quietly.  
  
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Like what? None of the lives of your own people were spent. I sadly anticipated that some would die even if I was able to overthrow Maeglin. This turned out far better than I expected, and that is in all thanks to you young prince."  
  
Legolas looked down to the clear pond that sat before them. His mind rapidly went through what Glorfindel just told him, and though he had heard it from his father as well, something inside of his mind finally clicked, and he immediately felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  
  
Legolas looked back up at Glorfindel, his eyes brighter than they had been and erased of the pain and anxiety that had been plaguing them. Glorfindel smiled at the change and stood.  
  
"Come," he told Legolas, "go back to the celebration that is busy exalting your name without you."  
  
Legolas stood as well, "Only if you come with me."  
  
Glorfindel nodded and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "I had not wished to take any of the attention away from you, but if it is your will I will indeed escort you in."  
  
Legolas smiled and placed his own hand on Glorfindel's shoulder, "It is my will," he said with more sincerity and happiness than he had been feeling for almost a month's time now.  
  
Together, the two elves turned and walked away from the glittering pond and out of the comely garden back to the Grand Hall. This time, Legolas only felt joy at returning to his people and father.  
  
The End  
  
Author's Note Part Deux: Yea, I finally finished the story! I know some of you may not be happy, but I sure as heck am, it's rare that I can even finish a story and I have to thank you all for pushing me to keep me going. I thought of abandoning the story way in the early days, but I'm so glad I didn't!  
  
Anyways, there has been some requests for a sequel. I am sorry to say that I will not be writing a sequel, however..(dramatic pause)...I already have another story in the works and though it is not a sequel persay, it involves plenty of the good stuff like Legolas angst and torture. I will have the first chapter up within a few days and if you wish to look for it it will be entitled, "A Killer in me". So there you are, I hope you really enjoyed my story and if you wish to check it out I hope you will enjoy the next story as much. Once again, thanks to all of you and I will be posting individual remarks to you all in the review section, though it may take me a moment to get it up, I don't want to miss anybody.  
  
Namarie~ (for now) :)  
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